That was it.

I knew it.

The solution.

If it worked for him, then god damn it, it'd work for me.

It had to...

After hours that felt like minutes had passed, I embraced Matty tightly.

I don't know what would happen out there.

I knew what I was about to do.
Matty seemed confused for a moment.

I hugged him as tightly as I possibly could.

"Sarah," he almost choked out, hugging me back.

"I'll be back." Maybe.

Matty sniffed and reluctantly let me go.

I felt his eyes on me as I traveled to the door, across the room.

I tip toed down stairs, finding what I knew would be on top the fridge in the very back.

A huge bottle of Vodka.

I wasn't daft, I have always known that my parents kept it there.

Every once in a while I would see Nick steal a swig or two from it.

It was heavy. The bottle was as tall as my forearm.

My intentions were quite clear with it.

For a moment, I leant back against the counter, contemplating bringing it back to the room, and drinking with Matty.

But he would probably stop me at some point and I didn't want that.

I figured that once I started, I'd not want to stop.

So instead, without a jacket, or anything except the clothing from the other day, I went to the front door, took a last look at the hall, remembering the day that Alex told Nick that he wanted me on tour with them.

I remember meeting his eyes.

The memory pained me.

Did he just want me on tour to mess with my head? Just to make me experience things that I could have gone my whole life without?

Is that what he wanted?

Because he succeeded.

He won.

She won, really.

Ari-...

I didn't even want to think about her name.

But, it was the push that I needed to take the step out the front door,closing it behind me quietly.

I stared at the cloudy sky.

There was no turning back.

I then began taking the slow steps forward, the heavy, toxic bottle in my hand.

As I took the steps down the side walk, in the direction of Libertine, I looked back at the house.

I stopped when I saw Matty in my bedroom window.

He stared at me, a depressed yet confused look on his face.
His eyes traveled down me, to the bottle in my hand.

His eyes widened, and I glanced down at the bottle before looking back at him, as he suddenly looked panicked, placing his hand on the window as he shook his head frantically.

'No.' He mouthed.

I felt my face contort slightly.

Then, I ran.

Again.

I sure was good at that.

I ran full speed, praying that Matty (who always said that he was unfit) would not be able to catch up to me.

When I made it to Libertine, every part of my body was aflame.

I fell onto the floor behind the bench that I loved so much, and I popped open the bottle.

It smelt disgusting.

This was disgusting.

I took a sip and the putrid tasting liquid burned as i swallowed it.

I already hated it and wanted to stop, but I pushed myself to take big, long gulps.

I began gagging but I forced more down.

Kills the pain, right?

A paused and my gag turned into a heave, but I managed to keep it down.

The tears were pouring down my cheeks now, the new physical pain not even distracting me from the other pain.

After a few minutes, I began to lose feeling.

First it was my legs.

They felt like... Nothing. They felt like nothing.

Then, My head began to spin.

I felt like the world was moving around me like a merry go round that was set 10 times the highest speed.

It was horrible.

I glanced at the bottle, and noticed it to be almost half empty.

Push on, soldier.

Gulp.

'It kills the pain.'

Gulp.

'You've kept me sane.'

Gulp.

'I'll be alright. I promise. And if I'm not, I'll come straight to you.'

Gulp.

'I promise.'

Gulp, gulp.

I was pulled back and suddenly, my face was grabbed and his lips met my own.

Sob, gulp, gag, sob.

"Sarah...?" He said, backing up a bit...

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Hold me up." He said just before collapsing against the wall.

... I went stiff at the feeling of his lips on my neck.

I cried at the memories.

The feelings that were provoking within me with those memories were insane.

My mind was flooding with the memories.

Jumping over the balcony to sit with one another.

Being in his hotel room.

Him pulling me into my bed and using me as a pillow.

Him telling me that I kept him sane.

Me being his rock.

Watching television.

The times we kissed.

When he told me he was scared.

He cried in my arms.

The Polaroid.

The Polaroid.

My lip quivered.

The time he literally beat up Nick when he went wrong.

You're not just my best mates sister.

Those words accompanied with the image of him kissing Arielle was all that I needed to begin choking down the rest of the bottle.

I was getting pretty far before my stomach rebelled furiously.

I lurched forward, and I felt the liquid moving up my throat.

Suddenly, I heard my name being called in the distance.

Matty.

I then began to vomit profusely.

I felt like death was gripping my shoulders.

Pain radiated through me.

I gripped my eyes closed as the yoshing continued.

I felt locked in place, I couldn't move.

Why couldn't I have just dealt with this like a normal person?

I could have sobbed, with my best friend by my side while he consoled me.

I could have just gone to Matty's house, hung out with him and George and Adam and Ross and John and let them lift up my spirits.

Hell, I probably could have confided in the girls or even...

Even in Jamie.

For some reason I felt very close to him.

He understood a lot of things, and that was n-

I continued to up everything in my stomach.

"Sarah!" His scream was frantic.

I hardly heard him over the ringing in my ears as Matty frantically pulled out his phone, calling an ambulance.

Alcohol poising?

I wanted to stab myself.

Why the hell didn't I think of that?

I thought I'd just get drunk and feel woozy, but i never even considered my health.

I didn't care.

I stopped vomiting just long enough to open my eyes and look at Matty.

He pulled my hair back.

Suddenly I felt like I was falling.

Then, everything went black.

~~~

"Get the Fuck out. You shouldn't be here. You Fucking caused this!"

"I'm not leaving."

"Al, maybe you should go."

Nick?

"No, Fuck that. I'm not Fucking leaving."

"Listen, fucker,"

"Matt-"

"Matty." Snappy tone.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Silence.

"You're so fucking selfish, you know that? You've got one of the best people I've ever met infront of you, and you go off and Fuck some bi-"

"How the Fuck do you know?!"

"Shut up! Please!" Nick, desperation.

"Let me watch her. Let me stay with her, please." He begs.

Silence.

"Fine."

"Nick,"

"Matty, drop it. Come on, I'll drive you home."

"Fine." Sassy tone. Makes me want to laugh.

The footsteps and voices become a blur, and everything is black once more.

~~~

"Tomorrow I'll be faster... I'll catch what I've been chasing after and have to play... But I'm quite alright, hiding... Today..."

Soft strums of a guitar and his angelic voice fill the room.

"... And I will play the coconut shy, and win a prize even if It's rigged I wont... Know when to stop, and you can leave off my lid, and I won't even lose my fizz... I'll be polka dots type..."

He sang and i focused on moving my hands.

I felt awful.

Empty.

When I finally opened my eyes, I glanced to the right side of the room, where his voice was ringing.

I tuned back into his words as he strummed the guitar, his quiff messy.

"I'll... Probably swim through a few lagoons, I'll have a spring in my step, and I'll get there soon... To sing you a happy tune.. Tomorrow... And you better bring a change of clothes, so we can sail our laughing... Pianos... Along a beam of light..." He began to look up.

"But I'm quite alright..."

His eyes met mine.

"Hiding... Tonight..." His voice faded as his playing slowly came to a stop.

His face was stone solid.

No expression.

He inhaled deeply, standing up and turning around, placing the guitar against the chair.

His back was tense.

He just stood there, facing away.

"A-Alex?" I choked out.

His hands curled into fists.

Then, in a swift movement, he turned around, and rushed towards me, quickly yet carefully wrapping his arms around me, sitting on the bed, and burrying his face in my neck.

It hadn't occured to me that I was in a hospital bed until just now.

But right now, Alex was shaking, his face in my neck and his arms around me.

The best I could do was raise a hand slightly, barely able to press it to his side.

"I'm sorry..." He sobbed, his voice breaking.

I closed my eyes, doing my best to grip his shirt.

I hate myself.

I hate myself for how easily the next words slip out.

I hate how much I mean them.

"I forgive you..."