Chapter Twenty-Five: Maggie

Finding a good quality hotel to stay in was easy, getting out of that damned house and penetrating through Clarice's resolute persistence to make sure I hadn't escaped was the difficult part.

I must admit, I feel bad because chances are my father is going to somehow find a way to shift the blame on Clarice for letting me walk out of his home with the entirety of my bedroom with me, but what was needed had to be done and I just hope he won't try to make it seem like it was her fault that I succeeded with fleeing, she did put up a fight, I'll give her that.

But there's no use in dwelling on it, it's a matter of survival and if I hadn't left that house soon, I was going to end up coping with my frustration in very unhealthy ways.

I would've trashed that old man's office just to get back at him, and although I would've found great pleasure in doing that, I couldn't possibly let other people clean up my mess for me.

I had to find a way to detoxify from all the negative energy I absorbed being around my father and Levi, as I was very close to self-destructing if I spent another second with either of them.

Fast forward now in the safety of an air-conditioned hotel room with the contents of my luggage scattered around the floor in disarray, my limbs flaccid as I lie down on the silky surface of the bed with my eyes closed and my breathing unsteady, trying to relish the peaceful silence of my surroundings.

This is the first time since I've arrived here in New York where I have quality time all to myself, absolved from my father's nagging or Levi's unavoidable presence trailing behind me like balls and chains. It was nice. For once, not feeling trapped by people you found unbearable.

Which may seem harsh, but unfortunately, it was the truth, the longer I spent time with them, the harder it was to endure their company, and you'd think after three years of living under the same roof as my father I would've strengthened my relationship with him by now.

But it's sad to say a parent and their child could be incompatible, no matter how much you impose your love on them, if it just isn't working... it probably never will.

I ruminate on that idea with a dull ache weighing down on my chest as if thoughts about my father still find a way to haunt me even when he's not there to suck the life out of me himself.

Despite being aware of how isolated I got when he was around, the feeling of loneliness still lingers even when he's not here to bother me anymore.

Perhaps because a part of me questions why. Why is it that the person I should consider as my emotional support system has done nothing but inflict psychological warfare on me? Has slowly broken me apart every day, has made me feel the most complicit I've ever been because he was looking out for my best interest.

But that's not what it feels like, I feel like I'm being confined in a birdcage, and even if the bars are gold, even if he gives me the most high-quality seeds to choke on, in the end, a cage is still a cage, and the longer I stay, the more any remaining wings I have left are starting to wither, and even if I find a way to somehow break free out of there...

What other sanctuary am I able to go to now, when he's made it his mission to make me the most dependent I've ever been on him?

I despised him for leaving me and mom when he filed for a divorce, resented him for the lack of support he gave me, but if he was going to offer any, he could at least try not to dangle it over my head as if I have to earn it instead of just giving it to me without having to beat myself down for it.

Because a father's love shouldn't have to be fought for, you give it because it's unconditional, and he condemns my mother for setting a bad example of a love that's simply transactional...

But I don't think I've ever had a relationship that wasn't built in a way that for me to get joy, I had to work for it, prove myself worthy of it, instead of just feeling happy because I'm human... and isn't that enough of a reason for me to deserve happiness?

* * *

I tried not to speculate that due to my damaged bond with my father, my tendency to seek after partners who are similar to him is feasible because my father's love was the only love I was exposed to growing up.

Even when I had spent a good majority of my adolescence living with my mother, destiny always seemed to find a way to tie me back to him. Whether it be my mother forcing me into proclivities so we could stay financially afloat because of his negligence, not being able to sustain any of the relationships I built with other people due to my fear of abandonment, or that I'll end up finding my way to someone similar because a twisted part of me wants to live vicariously through those relationships, project my insecurities onto them, and in a way, try to overcome my trauma by beating same like-minded people.

That I kept pushing Evan away anytime our relationship was getting too good to be true, kept trying to find reasons to destroy something beautiful whenever something good happens to me. All because I couldn't wrap my head around the possibility that I was capable of happiness.

I went through hell and back building my relationship with Evan, but there was never a time where I felt like I had to sustain it simply because it was there and I had nothing else left.

Despite the obstacles we went through, we found a way to work around them, for him to come back to me, not because I owed him anything, but because he willingly returned, every time because he saw something in me that he deemed worth fighting for.

For the first time, I finally felt what it was like to be the prize, instead of having to heave my last dying breath just to win one, whether that prize came in the form of unconditional love or support.

He gave it to me as if it was nothing. As if there was an unlimited supply of his love waiting for me every time I came back, there was never any anxiety about losing what I had whenever I needed space because I knew he would understand. He always did.

Levi, on the other hand...

It's funny, how I had nothing to fall back on at the start of Evan and I's relationship, and how he was the only person there, but it scarcely ever felt like swimming in the middle of the ocean and discovering a piece of timber I could use to keep myself buoyant, as he never made it seem as if he was my last resort, and that I needed to be grateful for him.

No, it was never like that. Evan as well as everything he had to offer always felt like an option, something I could choose to pick or reject if I wanted to, his love never felt unattainable...

It was always there, unyielding in its resistance to stay, all because of me.

As if it was made just for me.

When it comes to Levi, it's different, so distinctly different even when it's practically the same, or at least, tries to be. He said that he'll be there during tough times or when I need a shoulder to cry on, to let his entire world orbit around me as if I'm the one supplying its life source.

But consequently, being the center of his world has left me no room to explore anything else, being the love of his life feels like I need to drain the life out of me to love him in the way he wants to be loved, being the center of his world feels more like a responsibility than it is a privilege... Being Levi's partner requires too much of me giving up my own life than it is about giving me reasons to enjoy my life because I have him in it.

As it's hard to feel as though he's working with me instead of against me at times, feel as though every decision is challenged instead of encouraged, where every day feels as if it's numbered instead of cherished, and it's hard not to feel as though you're about to tether on the edge instead of soaring high into the sky.

I want every moment to feel like the complete opposite of what I'm experiencing, I want to view the relationship through his eyes instead of mine... but there's only so much lying I can do before being delusional starts to get tiring.

* * *

The project is about to end, and although I anticipated for this day to come because of how it's supposed to lift some of the burdens off my shoulders, all I feel now is just added pressure, because what else am I going to look forward to now when I just ended up taking several steps back?

I tried to convince myself it doesn't matter because the damage has been done, and at least by getting it out of the way, I no longer have to be around Evan half as much.

One might perceive the bags under my eyes and how I clearly haven't been able to sleep properly as just me stressing out over this project, considering the deadline is nearing, after all.

At least, that's what my peers think it's about.

As they all try to reassure me it'll be over soon, and once it is, we'll all go out and get a drink to commemorate our hard work - and here it is. The awaited day.

We walked out of the lecture hall practically buzzing in euphoria, as Audrey slung her arm around me and cheered "It's done! We're free! The worst experience of my life!"

"I heard that," Mr. Nelson called out as Audrey ducked her head in embarrassment.

"No, but seriously, we should go out." Clarence proposed with a wide grin.

"Funny that you say that," Giselle mused, an enthusiastic glint in her eyes, "One of my friends from Econ class told me they'll go clubbing tonight and the bouncer so happens to be their brother, and I asked if she can ask him to get us on the list and guess what?" she did a brief pause for effect before her entire face splits into a gigantic smile "We're all on the list!"

The group hollered in excitement, including Evan who puts an arm around Giselle's shoulder and smirks down at her, whether it's his way of flirting or showing appreciation, I averted my gaze as he simply replies with "Sounds like a plan. I'm in."

"Me too,"

"Same here,"

"Maggie?" Audrey turned to me, elated "Are you gonna join?"

I didn't answer, my silence automatically stopping them in their tracks as I cleared my throat and was forced to return Audrey's smile with one of my own, although I doubt mine looks anywhere near as genuine as hers "Um..." I trailed off "I think I'll have to pass.."

"What? Why?" Giselle asked as I turned to look at her, but immediately tore my eyes away when I realized she hadn't left Evan's side, forcing me to stare at him as well.

His eyes were piercing as if they were trying to drill into me and gauge a reaction that the others weren't able to pinpoint, but he can. Something that may seem so simple never really flies over his head.

But I ignored him as I responded with "I'm just tired," they didn't bother using flattery words because anyone from a five-foot radius could tell, so they just lent some sympathetic looks. Okay then.

"I feel like I'll have to clock in, for now, get some rest after such a hectic month, but I'll be sure to catch up with you guys once I feel better," I reassured them, and they still looked dubious about me not going.

"How about this," Giselle cut in, taking a step forward and placing her hand on top of my forearm "I text you the details and location of where we'll be clubbing, and if you decide to change your mind, just message me so I can get you inside, okay?"

I nodded, feeling quite grateful that she's still including me in their plans. "Thank you, I'll be sure to keep that in mind, but you guys have fun though, hm? You deserve it."

I didn't miss the way Evan's eyes lingered on me a bit longer as I departed from the group, telling them to enjoy their night out - engulfing Giselle and Audrey into a hug and tipping my head at Clarence with a smile before leaving.

But when I turned to acknowledge Evan, my eyes locked with him in a way as if something was pulling us together like magnets, and I couldn't help but find it rather difficult when I wrenched my eyes away from him when I told him to have fun as well.

As he just stared at me tentatively, perhaps trying to read between the lines and find out the real reason why I didn't want to come, but before he could see right through me, I took a step back and bid them farewell - feeling his eyes burn holes at the back of my head as we all went our separate ways.

* * *

I never had a problem with being alone, found great satisfaction in it even.

I was never particularly fond of the party scene, never felt compelled to go out clubbing, join groups when they invited me to tag along in their whereabouts, I was always fine just keeping to myself, as I was afraid to be overwhelmed by huge crowds and bustling noises.

But as I lay in bed in the comfort of my hotel room, my mind raced with inescapable thoughts about what the group might be doing now, as well as ideas that never would've crossed my mind if I wasn't already consumed by a whole new wave of loneliness, the kind that's desperate and craves the company of someone, anyone rather, just so I could feel less stranded with my own emotions once they've run rampant.

It feels like I'm trying to catch up with a version of myself who knows what I want better than I do,

I looked up at the digital clock situated at the nightstand beside the bed as it read, in blaring red light, that it's currently 9:00 PM. I stretched my hand and grabbed my phone which has been left untouched for a few hours now, turning it on and seeing Giselle's message from an hour ago staring straight at me, in all of its enticing glory.

Rumpus Room, 249 Eldridge St. It's near Katz Delicatessen, 10 minutes away from campus. Join us if you ever change your mind, it opens at 10.

My eyes stayed glued on my screen for what felt like forever, debating whether I should join or not - one moment being sure that I was fine rotting here with merely room service as my company, then realizing how fucking sad that sounds, and contemplating again if I should just go out, at this point.

It took some time, as in extensive amounts of time before I came to a decision, that when I looked up to check what the time was once more, 30 minutes had already passed.

Meaning I'll only have 10 minutes left to get ready and an extra 10 minutes to get to the club, and once it dawned on me that I'd rather be anywhere else than to be in this room with my unsolicited thoughts serving as my companionship.

With that, I hastily dragged myself out of bed, dug through the piles of clothes in my luggage, and pulled out an outfit, as well as my pouches of makeup, and got ready in a hurry right then and there.

All the while I couldn't help thinking that I probably resembled the pieces of cosmetic products thrown everywhere on the carpeted floor in a clutter - just a gigantic mess.

But I was quick to dismiss the thought, reprimanding myself that I already feel like absolute garbage, so what's the point dwelling on the possibility I probably look like one too?

Once I was done, I examined my reflection on the window that faced the city - I wore a dark blue dress which I'd normally used during formal events, specifically whenever my father forced me to accompany him to the parties he hosted back at his firm.

All of which I despised going to, as it consisted mostly of him talking with his associates while I was left sulking in the corner of the room, sipping sparkling water as he made sure I didn't get my hands on the champagne. I eyed the dress in disdain, as it was always an alternative when I had nothing else to wear, my melancholy dress if you will.

The dress accentuated my skin tone, as well as my makeup which was barely there, as I opted for something simple and natural. I didn't bother styling my hair, deciding to leave it as it is

The streets were packed as I took a closer look down the road, thinking I'll reach the club in less than 15 minutes if I book a Lyft now. I pulled out my phone and it took less than 20 seconds when a notification popped up saying the driver will be on their way.

I collapsed onto the edge of the bed, dropping my phone beside me as I inspected the state of the room, it was disorganized. I don't know what my intentions are for tonight, but all I know is that the goal is to forget.

Forget that I had to resort to this, to this sad, excuse of a shelter because the house I'm supposed to be in now feels more like a battlefield than it is a home.

Then again, it's been a while since anything or anyone felt like a home to me.

* * *

I arrived at the club in less than 15 minutes, thanking the driver as I got out of the vehicle and eyed the place in all of its radiant glory. The area was full of many attendants, some of which looked older than me, and a few who appeared to be the same age as I am.

I scrutinized the area with a bit of hesitation plaguing my thoughts, opting to ignore the feeling as I whipped out my phone and messaged Giselle, not wanting to overthink it.

I sent her a text telling her I decided to come and that I am currently outside, but when she failed to text me back after three minutes, I decided to call her instead and after three attempts, she answered.

"Maggie!"

Her voice was garbled, meaning she probably had a lot to drink. I cut right to the chase and told her I was outside, and with a squeal, she told me to stay put while she excuses herself from the group to pick me up.

I stood on my spot which was further away from the line of people waiting to get in, and it didn't take long before a very buzzed Giselle came bursting out of the club and waved at me to come over. Tapping the bouncer on the shoulder and whispering in his ear, which I can assume was to inform him I was with her.

Once I got closer, he simply eyed me and down before gesturing with his hand that I'd come in, earning a couple of complaints and grunts from the group of people waiting in line behind me, but I dismissed them as I allowed myself to be tugged inside by Giselle.

"I'm so glad you came!" she shouted through the music blaring inside the tight space of the club "We were so sad when you said you didn't want to join, but when I received your text, the group was ecstatic!"

"Where are they anyway?" I asked, sweeping my eyes around the area to figure out where they might be.

Giselle pointed to the far end of the room as my gaze immediately landed on a booth occupied by Clarence and Audrey, who upon spotting me waved at me excitedly.

I swallowed "Where's Evan?"

"I think he went to get us some drinks," she answered, uncertain. She looked around for a moment before she ended up rolling her eyes "Nevermind, at least that's what I thought he did."

My eyes shifted across the bar to where she was staring only to suck in a deep breath when I spotted Evan chatting with a woman, his back turned to me but I knew it was him from where I stood.

The broad expanse of his back stretched in a dark blue, satin button-up, complimenting his brown locks as he partnered it with a simple pair of black slacks.

"I'll go fetch him so he can say hi to you-" Giselle said but I instantly stopped her.

"No, no, that's okay. He seems busy, you just go back to the group and do whatever it is you were doing before I came. I don't want you to feel like I'm your responsibility." I told her, offering a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes as I motioned for her to go back to the booth "I'll just go get a drink, hm?"

She didn't have the energy to refute me, considering the alcohol appears to already be taking a toll on her, as she nodded without any probing and walked back to the booth.

Once she left I diverted my attention to Evan who was still preoccupied, and thinking I didn't want to spoil the night by latching onto things from my past when the goal was to forget, I ignored him and went up to the bar to get myself a drink, making sure I was at the end opposite from where he was so he wouldn't see me, but that doesn't mean my vantage point didn't give me access to watch him.

My eyes stayed on him as the woman he was chatting with continued to talk animatedly, clearly enjoying his company as he only stared at her with a polite grin on his face, although I couldn't tell if he was enjoying her company in the same way she was enjoying his.

I shook my head. Stop being bitter, he's over here talking to people and moving on, and the only reason you're acting this way is that he's here for a good time, while you're here because you want to forget how you're ruining your relationship with Levi.

Stop being bitter because you're worlds apart from him. It's not his fault he's stronger than you.

I motioned to the bartender to serve me the strongest liquor they got, which caused him to raise his eyebrow as he told me that their strongest is vodka, and I waved him off saying that would do.

He's clearly witnessed the occasional customer having a downward spiral because he looked unfazed by my crudeness, and when he came back to serve me my drink, abruptly stopped and told me "I hope it fixes whatever you're going through, but chances are it probably won't. So keep it easy."

I clenched my jaw and ignored him, taking a sip from the glass, and the strong glide of the liquor moving past my throat caused an immediate burn that almost made me flinch. This has to be at a 70% ABV or higher, one of those strong brands my father buys that could practically pass off as gasoline.

But I overlooked the intense sensation and continued gulping it down, to the point that when I reached the hilt I could already feel the tiniest ache pounding at the walls of my head.

The bartender stole a glance at me before he turned away and shook his head.

* * *

By the time an hour had passed, five shots of vodka already sat empty in front of me.

It was 11:00 PM, and when I felt the gradual build-up of the alcohol ultimately taking effect in my system, I rose from the stool I was sitting on and found myself stumbling.

Jesus fucking Christ, I thought to myself. Rubbing my forehead in pain as I found myself wobbling to the dance floor but not before tripping on my own feet on the way there, which was only hindered when a random guy swooped in to catch me before my face met the floor.

He pulled me back and after checking to see if I was alright, asked if I wanted to dance when I told him I was fine in a firm tone. Deciding to take that as a challenge, he took my hand and pulled me in the middle of the dance floor, to which I found myself getting swayed by the bellowing music and swarm of sweaty bodies rubbing up against me.

The atmosphere felt tight and the air smelled of perspiration, all of which made me want to gag and pass out in the center of the room, but I was adamant to let the night take me away, and so I let it.

I let the music consume me and let this random fucking guy whose face doesn't even look discernable manhandle me, I don't even know what color his shirt is, nor do I have it in me to care.

He probably screamed his name in my ear while we were dancing, and by dancing I mean him pulling at my limbs like a puppeteer as I just stood there rocking back and forth on the heels of my feet.

I was flat out delirious, my mind was swirling like a mixer and my senses were only getting exacerbated by the minute, and when I felt his hands roam lower and lower down my waist to my hips until they reached my backside, I didn't have the energy to tell him to back off.

I was aware he was starting to get too handsy for my liking, and when I tried to push at his chest to make him stop, that only made him more eager with his unsolicited probing

I glowered at him, but I was way out of my mind to do anything else but shoot daggers at him using my eyes "S-stop..." I slurred, but he ignored me and brought me closer to him until I could feel his breath which reeked of whisky blow air onto the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

When my body went flaccid, his hands only grew more confident with their assault. I found it harder to fight back and even thought to myself that there's no use doing so, at this point...

Then I suddenly felt him being wrenched away from me, it was almost a violent jerk the way he was pulled away, and I wouldn't be surprised if he was intended to be thrown across the room.

"Keep your grimy fucking hands off her."

"M-man, we were just dancing-"

"Shut the fuck up," the person warned, his voice deep and laced with a threatening undertone, the kind I recognized all too well, the kind that would make the typical bystander cower and back away...

But I knew better than to be affected by it, if anything, a wave of relief washed over me just hearing him speak, no matter how terrifying he sounded... because I know he'll never use that voice on me.

Callous fingers grazed the edge of my jaw before it fully cupped my face "Maggie?" he said, his thumb caressing my cheek as he tried to evoke some sobriety from me, but my eyes began to feel droopy.

The room began to spin and when my body went limp in his arms, he caught me. His arms secured around my waist as if he was afraid that at any moment he'd lose me in the sea of people.

"Maggie? Are you okay? I need to bring you home, you're drunk." he said, pulling me up and staring intensely into my eyes "Maggie? What happened?"

"P-please, don't..." I tried to speak, but my mind started to shut down and my surroundings were getting hazy, but for some reason, his face was still so distinct in my eyes, clear as it's always been and forever recognizable even when the rest of the world slips past my comprehension of reality.

Sharp and daunting as I know it, but it held a semblance of tenderness, something even the callosity of his exterior could never be able to hide... at least when it comes to me.

"Don't what?" he asked "Maggie?"

"... Don't bring me back to my father," I croaked, my eyes fluttering shut "Please."