After I left the Davis' house, I wound up down at a shady pawn shop in the heart of the town's drug district. I hocked two of my foot pedals and a small amp I had recently bought before everything around me went to shit. The guy only gave me about a quarter of what they were actually worth, but I needed the cash fast and didn't have many options.

Desperation was an ugly, four-headed beast that was far worse than the actual addiction itself. In order to satiate the cravings, I had to do whatever it took to chase my next high. The money might have only been enough to get me by for a few days, but it would give me the time to pull myself out of the ditch I was trapped in.

Then I would stop. I would quit using, get sober, and be done for good this time. 

I came down from my seven-day binge without anything other than a fuzzy recollection of what I had done in the past week—at least I thought it was a week. I couldn't really be sure exactly how much time I let my addiction swallow me whole. It could have been ten minutes or five years for all the better I knew.

Time always passed differently for me when I was using. The same drug never affected me the same way twice. Sometimes the hours sped up in warp speed and others slowed down to a creeping crawl until everything stopped, frozen in place as time ceased to exist.

There was no rhyme or reason to how anything in my world happened. Everything around me just did what it wanted, bringing me along for the ride.

I came to on a hardwood floor in just my boxers with the neck of an empty Jack bottle clutched tightly in my hand. I blinked myself back into reality and tried to figure out where the hell I ended up. 

My whole body ached as the sensation of being alive came rushing back in. I felt everything overtake me all at once as every nerve in my body fired up and exploded simultaneously. Just the scratchy floor underneath me felt like a billion aluminum paper cuts were shredding me open.

The hole Riley left inside was the worst pain of all. It terrorized my head, filling my chest until I couldn't catch my breath.

And the baby—I couldn't even think about the baby without it all coming full circle back to Riley and the gaping hole. The pain would start again and again until it made me dizzy.

It was too much to handle.

I pushed myself up from the ground, but my arms gave out, unable to support the weight of my enormous, throbbing head. I collapsed back down on the floor and landed on a stack of DVD cases. When I rolled over off them to my other side, I almost pissed myself when a loud crunch sounded at the back of my skull.

The noise reverberated around the room, nearly blowing out both of my eardrums.

This was it—I had finally accomplished what I was determined to do for years. I finally broke my body beyond repair and was seconds away from my death.

The end wasn't what I expected and hurt a fuck ton worse than my demented brain could ever have dreamt up. The stench of death was all around me—weirdly, the smell was surprisingly salty and stale.

I raised my hand to cup the back of my head to feel the spot where my brain was oozing out. My fingers landed against something smooth, cemented flat against my hair. I pulled the odd textured thing away and brought it in front of my face.

It was a yellow, almost empty bag of chips. 

It wasn't my brain. That was somehow still buried some place inside my head.

"What the fuck?" I muttered and turned the bag over to inspect it. I inadvertently dumped the remaining contents all over my bare chest when I moved it too far.

"Fuck me," I grumbled and threw the bag to the side.

My hand hit another object and I turned my head to find another stack of DVD cases. The pile was about eight inches tall and offset like Lincoln Logs. It wasn't until I shifted my leg to stretch it and hit another stack by my foot that I truly understood the odd situation I woke up in.

I was almost naked on the ground of the band house living room, surrounded by a DVD case castle, built around me like a chalk outline—and to make it even better, there was a crushed potato chip moat to keep invaders away.

I banged my head repeatedly against the ground, smashing the potato chip crumbs into a fine dust with each strike. 

Fucking Mark.

A bright light flashed over my head multiple times, followed by the sound of a camera shutter clicking. Someone was having fun at my expense. Between blinding bursts of light, Brynn's hideous nightmare-inducing face blurred between the black spots in my vision. She was standing above me, leaning over me with my phone in her hand. She had it centered over the top of my face, snapping pictures of my ludicrous state.

My head was pounding and my stomach burned from dehydration. My body was caving in while she leered over top of me like I was an exhibit on display for her amusement.

"What the fuck are you doing, psycho?" I hissed and shielded my eyes like a vampire, hiding from the sunlight as she hit the button again and again.

"Just returning your phone. You know you shouldn't leave it lying around for anyone to find. You're lucky I grabbed it before anyone else did. You never know what crazy things people will do with an unattended phone. Someone could erase your whole life with just a simple click of a button." Brynn took the opportunity to snap one last picture when I let my guard down. She held out the phone and dropped the phone right on top of my dick.

It bounced off my body after the corner drilled my cock ring at the wrong angle. The damn thing landed face down on the floor as Brynn walked away triumphantly.

"Stupid bitch." I growled and rubbed my sore dick. 

I picked up the phone and raised it to my face to unlock it. I didn't have any new messages from Riley, but my camera roll proved to be a small glimpse into the damage that was done last night. There were a couple of hundred photos of a party raging around my passed-out body. 

The first ones were the standard tongues sticking out with middle fingers in the air. They slowly morphed into Mark and Brynn playing engineer around my limp body. There was also a terrifying scene where Mark had his pants down, slowly lowering his bare ass—in all its glory— over my passed-out, frowning face.

I threw up a little in my mouth when he got about six inches away from my nose.

Mark had an abnormal amount of ass hair and it was dangerously close to rubbing against my face. He was fucking foul. There had to be something medically wrong with that jackass.

The time stamp on the picture was around six hours ago. There was no telling what else happened after that point. After seeing the pictures, it was probably better if I never found out.

A notification popped up at the top of my screen and my heart pounded in my chest. It had to be Riley trying to get in touch with me. I jumped up from the floor and clicked on the screen eagerly. I was relieved she didn't freeze me out as long as she did the last time.

My excitement evaporated instantly when I saw the picture of Mark's ass next to his name on my messages. 

Mark: Have you seen my potato chips?

Fuck. It wasn't her.

Damnit, the girl drove me insane. I was definitely going to let her know I was pissed off the next time I talked to her, but that would have to wait for later. I had to get something else into my system before my headache knocked me out again. 

I went up to my room and pulled open the nightstand drawer to grab one of the bottles of pills I had bought using my pawn shop money. My hands shook as I tried to pry the child-proof cap open. The lid popped off and the whole bottle slid out of my hand, scattering the white pills all over the floor.

"Shit." I groaned, dropping down to my knees just in time to watch the bottle roll under the edge of my bed frame. 

I stuck my hand near the spot I thought I saw it stop and groped the floor. I came up empty-handed and had to scoot further back until my head was buried into the side of my mattress. 

The first thing my hand landed on was soft and not the plastic I expected to find. I gripped the cloth between my index finger and thumb and pulled it out to see what it was.

In my hand were the blue panties Riley was wearing the first night we had sex. I held them up and examined them, smiling at the present she left behind. I dropped them to the floor and went back under, hoping to find more little souvenirs.

I wasn't disappointed. I came back out with a fistful that included the matching blue bra and the pink set she donned the last time she was in my room. 

I spread them out in front of me across the floor and studied them. I could picture every little detail of her body while she wore them, like how she always managed to spill out of the top of her bra or the way the back of her panties always hit the exact spot to give her that seductive, cheeky curve.

Every little dot and line on her skin was more captivating than the next. Each perfect, slight imperfection made her that much more beautiful.

I dove back under the bed, hoping to find a few more reminders of my girl. At the tips of my fingers, there was something that felt like cardboard. It was just out of my reach. Luckily my long fingers had a little extra stretch in them from the hours I spent spreading them across the fretboard of my guitar. I was able to clasp the free edge of the box and wiggle it back until I could get a better hold on it. 

I pulled it out, excited to see what else she had left me.

I dropped the box and smashed it immediately as the tears came pouring down my face. I damned and cursed, screaming at the box for ruining my life. I cried and sobbed, picking up everything around me that Riley left behind. I stretched and tore at them, wanting to destroy anything I could to get the agony to stop.

The morning after pill box. I never threw it out.

Why didn't it work?

Why didn't the fucking pill inside the box do what it was supposed to do? 

What did we do wrong?

I cried out for Riley, my own selfishness, and the baby that shouldn't have ever been for hours.

I couldn't find a way to stop.

I caught a slight motion in the crack of my door and saw an eyeball dart away from the crack. The intruder shut the door, leaving me to suffer in my own misery. 

I didn't even bother to go find out who it was. It didn't matter because I knew it wasn't her. I desperately needed to hear Riley's voice to get me through this. I would take anything she would give me—her warmth, comfort, or even her anger—anything would be better than the silence. 

I grabbed my phone and dialed Riley again. It had been a few days. Hopefully, she would decide she needed me too and pick up the phone.

The voicemail picked up after one long ring, followed by an odd click. I hesitated for a few seconds before talking, unsure if the recording had even started. I spoke to her voicemail thousands of times before and this time, it felt off. 

I shook off my paranoia and decided this was it. I had to tell Riley my secrets.

"Riley, I need you to call me back as soon as you get this. There are some things I need to tell you about me and I'm so fucking scared I'm going to lose you once you find out. You need to understand why you shouldn't want to have this baby and why I do the things I do. I know I am really fucked up. Please come over tonight and give me a chance to explain."

I paused and sighed.

"I love you so fucking much."