-Bennett-

"So, yeah, I nearly got fired today because I'm an idiot," I murmured, tiredly stretching across my bed. Waiting for the bus had been hell, but at least I'd arrived home so unusually early from the gym that I was surprisingly greeted by a quiet stillness.

"Stop calling yourself an idiot, idiot," Eve's distant voice scolded me from where it seeped out from my phone's speaker. "And why? Who are we fighting?"

"Me, I think," I confessed, smiling softly when she burst out laughing. "I'm—I don't know. I've just been feeling worse than usual lately. No real reason."

Eve hummed under her breath before tsking softly. "Shit. And here I thought you'd seemed a bit happier the past few days, at least on the phone. You even agreed to go out and watch a movie with me this weekend."

I sighed at the reminder. "About that—"

"No! Nope! I'll drag you by force if I have to! We haven't hung out in ages," Eve whined, her voice tentatively hopeful... like she wasn't completely serious about driving over, knocking me out cold, and kidnapping me. She'd probably figure out a way to rope my parents into helping carry my body into her car as well.

"Don't forget the rope," I muttered sarcastically, feigning irritation despite knowing she had a point. She wasn't wrong to insist; I always stressed about making plans, but then I always managed to relax and have a good time whenever I didn't bail. Besides, I did miss her terribly.

Eve and I had been rather inseparable during high school; however, nowadays not many of our college classes coincided and one of us always managed to be busy during the weekend. We did have a History course in common right now, but taking the bus to work meant I had to either book it to the bus stop right after class ended or risk walking over to the gym and being late. It was kind of a no-brainer.

Occasionally we tried to meet up at the campus cafeteria before class to catch up, but that was also a rare occurrence, particularly since neither one of us was naturally a morning person.

"See, if you lived on campus, we could hang out so much more... like before."

"You got dorm money?"

"Maybe if that bastard didn't take all your income, you'd be able to afford it! Or we could even find a third roomie and rent a pad near campus! Wouldn't that be nice?" she rambled about possible solutions like she usually did, likely hoping that fabricating such sweet delusions would alter reality somehow.

Yeah, that'd be nice.

"It's not up to me." The phrase felt familiarly galling rolling off my tongue, yet the sourness was only an ephemeral aftertaste now that I'd resigned myself to it. I'd been so full of bottled-up rage back when I was younger, but that blazing ire had long since dimmed down to a mere flicker. The flames didn't lick at my feet like they used to. My skin and muscles and joints had all melted down along with it, sliding off my bones and cascading onto the cherry wooden tiles beneath my feet.

The floor appeared a brighter shade of red now, despite its deteriorated state.

"You're nearly nineteen. You're an adult now!" Eve protested with the same intensity she'd had back when she told me, "You're nearly fifteen; he can't keep treating you like this!" And just like back then, and with every subsequent, yearly iteration, it didn't mean all that much; age didn't come into play when it came to what I could and couldn't do.

If anything, the burden of responsibility had only increased with each passing year, despite her hopeful words of comfort.

"I could be thirty and I'd still have to run things by him," I stated plainly, my voice surprisingly even. "I'll probably have to wait—"

...until he's dead.

I paused, glaring down at my pillow, and getting lost in the scatter of fresh, dark circles that bloomed across the expanse of soft, navy blue. I released a shaky breath before forcing the thought away, the stifling weight of my own depraved guilt wrapping around my throat like a starving anaconda, brutally squeezing down the more I struggled to catch my breath.

I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand, disconcertedly flipping over the pillow, and grazing my fingers across the dry fabric as I tried to collect my thoughts.

I knew better, really.

I'd told myself countless times that I wouldn't entertain such thoughts anymore... that I wouldn't let myself cling onto such rancor. But I did anyway, always gripping at such crude notions with greedy, tight-fisted hands.

I'd probably get lost in it someday. "I promise I won't bail on you this time, okay?"

"You better not," Eve replied sternly, but there was a knowing softness to her voice. I couldn't decide whether it was comforting or embarrassing. "Hey, are you okay?"

I snorted, ripping out a casual chuckle from the depths of my throat. It tasted of metal.

"Yeah, I'm good." I'd probably have to make sure my parents didn't need me to run any errands beforehand. But even then, I could finish them when I got back from work on Friday. It'd be fine. Hopefully.

"Yeah, my ankle just hurts," I complained. Even as I lay in bed, alleviating my ankle of some pressure, I could feel the faint ache radiating from my limb if I stopped thinking for too long. Damn it. I'd definitely overdone it today.

"You should sue him," Eve complained, fully under the impression that I'd twisted my ankle due to the incident with the old man. Which, that was entirely by design; I hadn't even brought up Mason to her. And I wasn't planning on it, either.

"Not a good idea; trust me."

Knowing Eve, she'd get all invested, and then I'd have to spend even more time thinking about someone who clearly disliked me. It was better this way. Hopefully, I'd be able to stop thinking about him altogether, shoving all thoughts of him away until I had to pause just to remember his name.

"So, have you come across any cute boys lately?" she asked, just as she routinely did ever since I was hired at the gym a few years back. She'd convinced herself that I was constantly stumbling into jaw-dropping jocks left and right, even when I consistently reminded her how, in actuality, I taught two classes of literal children and then kept to myself for the rest of my time there.

The most "exhilarating" thing that usually happened was being scolded by one of the parents on the rare occasion I was late. Oh, and that one time I was forced to catch a terrified stray cat that had snuck into the gym and kept swiping at the ankles of gym members who hopped on the treadmills.

So yeah, there wasn't all that much going on, at least not until recently. That didn't seem to hinder Eve, though.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to think about how hard my heart was suddenly palpitating. "No, I haven't found you a boyfriend yet. But don't worry, I'm on it," I replied jokingly.

"Really? Nobody's caught your eye?" Eve fumed under her breath. "Damn. So, you still don't have a crush on anyone?"

"Yep. There's no one," I confirmed, glad that she couldn't see my flushed expression. I still wondered, sometimes, whether I was truly better off for having come out to her all those years ago.

Up until now, Eve was the only person who knew. For the most part, it was pleasant to know someone else understood me, but there was always that inkling, residual feeling of shame whenever she nonchalantly brought it up. She had no qualms when it came to conversing about my crushes and feelings and guys and love and sex and—

It was overwhelming sometimes, not that I ever bothered to verbally express that. Because that would require confronting all those jumbled up feelings I'd ripped from my turbulent mind and kept contained in a small, harmless box... away from everything logical in my brain.

"There's never anyone, huh?" Eve asked half-heartedly. "Sorry, I know you told me to stop bringing it up so much. I just—I hate seeing you so lonely, Bennett."

I furrowed my eyebrows. Was I lonely? Did I feel that way?

Some nights, I'd stare up at the ceiling and let myself wonder what it'd feel like to carry the burden of someone else's happiness. To be responsible for their well-being, just as they would gently care for mine. Out of free will, at that. It was exhausting to think about it, though, both too bittersweet and so detached from anything I could simulate within the confines of my reality. Sometimes I felt a soft, longing ache for an emotion I couldn't even fully comprehend. Others, I felt repulsed by the dreadful, stagnant longing altogether. Was that loneliness? Or was it merely a delusion?

Perhaps a little bit of both.

"I'm fine by myself." I hushed the doubtful thoughts away, zealously fanning them from where they were still swirling amid all the chaos radiating from within. It was a tropical storm inside, somehow both anarchic and grandiose in ways I couldn't fully process. It felt natural to exist in such a constant state of tempest, but was it? Or was I merely wearing myself down until there was nothing left?

"Are you?"

I was about to respond when I heard the low rumble of a vehicle pulling into the driveway. I grew still, releasing a shaky breath before fetching my phone and sitting up, hesitantly approaching the window. I leaned over my desk, methodically peeking out through the eleventh blind down, which hung slightly downward and allowed for a proper view of the driveway below. I was met by the dreadful, warning crimson of his filthy pickup truck and the harsh slam of a car door being shut closed.

"Hey, I have to go. Message you in a bit, okay?" I muttered to Eve while limping over to the door, half-listening to her rushed goodbye before hanging up the phone and sticking it into my pocket.

I verified my door was unlocked before dragging myself over to my desk and sitting down, immediately pulling out a random textbook from last semester. And then I quietly waited there, hunched slightly downward.

I could feel the building sound of drums against my ears, emboldened by the matching of thundering stomps that spread across the expanse of the house as my father stepped across the worn, cherry-red wooden tiles. The walls shook in response, bracing themselves in preparation.

My breath caught as his voice echoed throughout the house, carrying a cursed dissatisfaction with it. It was joined by the sudden slamming of cabinet doors, the stomps growing closer before receding as the crinkling of a plastic bag took its place.

I waited for the clinking of glass bottles as he grabbed a few beers from the fridge, which were accompanied by the subsequent thumping echo of the fridge door closing once more. The predictability didn't make me any less restless.

It never did.

I finally forced out a weak exhale once the droning sound of the television set in, which usually went hand in hand with the creaking of the sofa, from where he probably wouldn't move for a few hours. He didn't work out until nighttime.

The sudden roaring of football fans and the bold voice of an overenthusiastic sports commentator forcefully filled the house instead, taking a hold of the heavy air.

Still, I remained firmly on the chair. I didn't move. I didn't breathe. I just stared at the sentences in the textbook until the words blurred together, unable to help the shakiness of my hands as I finally reached into my backpack and took out my laptop so I could get some actual assignments done.

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A/N: Thank you for reading. Please consider voting and commenting; I appreciate it immensely.