T H E O  G R A Y

“ANOTHER ROUND!”

One of the guys raises his empty glass to the bartender, who nods in understanding. The table erupts in cheers, and I follow along, clinking my glass with the others before downing the drink in one gulp. My eyes, however, keep darting toward the closest exit.

“Woah there!” Jaxon’s voice cuts through the noise, drawing a few heads as he notices my subtle attempt to leave. “You’re not going anywhere.”

I almost groan. The clock hanging above the bar reads nearly midnight, and sitting here isn’t exactly my idea of a good time. Sure, earlier I told myself I’d try to stick it out with the team, and for most of the night, it’s been fine. We’ve been drinking, shooting pool, and trash-talking Coach—mostly about how he’s been running us into the ground lately. At one point, he even made one of the guys tear up during practice, which almost caused a fight. Luckily, that didn’t happen. We’ve made it to the second round of the finals, and that’s all that really matters.

“You can’t even stay for one night, can you?” Logan laughs, taking another sip of his drink. “I wonder why.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I shoot back.

Before Logan can answer, Sam chimes in from across the table. “Theo, you know this is like the ffth time you’ve hung out with us this semester, right?”

“What about last week’s party? I was there,” I argue, but I know it’s a weak defense.

Jaxon scoffs, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, for like an hour. Then…” He makes a dramatic poofing gesture with his hands. “You vanished into thin air.”

I didn’t vanish—I was helping a drunk girl get home. The same girl I’ve been avoiding ever since. My goddamn roommate.

“I wasn’t in the mood, that’s all.” I rub my forehead, my headache amplifying with the noise around us. It’s like the volume keeps climbing with each passing second, and all I want right now is to crawl into bed.

“Well, better get in the mood for another round,” Logan grins as the bartender sets another round of drinks on the table. The first one lands in front of me, and the guys exchange curious looks.

“What?” I ask, confused by their stares.

Logan smirks. “We didn’t order that drink.”

The bartender speaks up, gesturing toward the other side of the bar. “A lady over asked me to bring it to you.”

I follow his gaze to a group of girls sitting nearby, their eyes flicking between each other and us. One girl in particular stands out—her eyes lock onto mine, her lips curling into a flirtatious smile. She’s giving me the unmistakable fuck me look.

“She’s hot,” Jaxon whistles, leaning closer to me to get a better view. I can’t disagree with him. Her white top is low-cut, showing off just enough to turn head. She’s not bad-looking at all, even if her lips look like she’s had fillers. It’s common enough around here, so nothing shocking about it.

“Go say hi, dude,” Jaxon urges, his tone dripping with eagerness. I can tell he’s ready to make a move on her himself. Horny bastard.

“Nah.” I shake my head, sliding the drink toward him instead. “You ask her out.”

Before he can argue, I stand up. “I need to use the restroom.”

Logan and Sam nod, letting me go without much fuss Once inside the restroom, I head straight to the sink, splashing cold water on my face. The sting wakes me up slightly, but it doesn't erase the tension in my chest.

I wish the guys could understand that I'm not the going out type. When I do, it's usually because I need to blow off steam, and yeah, sometimes that involves hooking up. But not tonight. My body's still sore from practice, and my head's a mess.

The guys think I need a quick fuck but standing in front of the mirror, I know what I really need: silence, space and maybe a few hours of sleep. Not another drink. Not another meaningless hookup. Just some goddamn peace.

After taking a few deep breaths, I decide it’s time to head back out. As I walk out of the restroom, my eyes scan the table where the guys were sitting. Jaxon isn’t there, and my gaze drifts to the table where the girls had been. The one who sent me the drink is gone too.

I chuckle under my breath, shaking my head. “Horny bastard.”

I stand there for a moment, debating whether I could use this as my chance to slip away without anyone noticing. My hand twitches toward my jacket, ready to make my escape, but before I can act, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

The screen lights up with Dad.

I groan. “What does he want now?” Swiping to answer, I press the phone to my ear. “Hello, Dad—”

“If you don’t get your mother off my property, I’m calling the cops and having her arrested for trespassing.”

“What?” My eyes widen, and for a moment, the noise of the bar fades into the background.

“You heard me,” he snaps. “She’s outside my gate screaming like a lunatic and making a scene. Get her out of here, or I’m pressing charges.”

The call cuts off abruptly, leaving me staring at the blank screen, heart racing with a mix of anger and panic.

Logan spots me from across the bar, his brow furrowed with concern, but I wave him off and head straight for the exit without another thought. My mind is racing as I step into the cool night air, trying to process what the hell just happened.

Mom’s always been unpredictable, but this? Shouting outside Dad’s house? What was she even thinking?

I reach my car and grip the steering wheel tightly, resisting the urge to punch it. “Perfect timing,” I mutter bitterly. “Just when I thought tonight couldn’t get worse.”

Pulling out of the parking lot, I speed toward Dad’s place, tension tightening my chest with every mile. Flashes of childhood arguments between them flood my mind—every fight, every bitter word, every time I was dragged into the middle.

It’s exhausting.

It’s been exhausting for years.

She promised she wouldn’t go near him.

She promised.

Yet here we are.

As I pull up to Dad’s gated house, I spot her immediately. She stands outside the gate, arms crossed, yelling at the security guard, who looks like he’s about two seconds away from quitting.

I barely put the car in park before I’m out, slamming the door shut. “Mom! What the hell are you doing?”

Her head snaps toward me, her face lighting up—not with guilt, not with anger, but with relief. Like I’m here to save her.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here.” She stumbles toward me, and that’s when I know. The way she sways, the slight slur in her words—she’s been drinking.

I grit my teeth. Of course she has.

“Mom,” I say slowly, trying to keep my patience. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not leaving until I see her.”

I frown. “See who?”

“My fucking replacement!” she snaps, her voice cracking. “I need to see her. Now.”

Her voice wavers at the end, and suddenly, I get it.

She’s still in love with him.

Fucking hell. Why? What does she see in this man? He’s self-centered, arrogant, and cares more about his dick than his own family.

The guard looks at me helplessly, and I offer him an apologetic glance before turning back to her. “Mom, please. Can we just—”

“I’m not leaving!” she interrupts, gripping the bars of the gate so tightly her knuckles turn white. Her whole body shakes like she’s barely holding herself together. And Dad? He’s just standing there, watching. Not helping. Not saying anything. Probably enjoying the spectacle.

“Mom,” I take a step closer, lowering my voice. “You’re going to get arrested if you don’t stop this.”

Why now? Why tonight?

I thought we were making progress. I thought she was getting better. She promised me she wouldn’t do this anymore.

So why lie?

Did she lie just to get to him?

“Let him arrest me!” she shouts, throwing her hands up. “I don’t give a bloody fuck, you hear me?!”

She turns back to the gate, rattling it violently. The loud clanging echoes in the night.

Dad finally speaks, voice booming through the darkness. “Take her home, Theo! She’s fucking nuts!”

And for once, I can’t even argue.

Something is wrong.

My feet move on instinct, closing the space between us. I place my hands on her shoulders, firm but careful. Her body trembles beneath my grip.

Then I see it.

A tiny smear of white dust just beneath her nose.

My stomach drops.

I grab the guard’s flashlight without thinking and shine it directly on her face. She flinches at the sudden brightness, but I don’t care.

Mum.

My heart pounds as I stare at her, my world tilting. It’s faint. Barely noticeable. But I see it.

And now, I can’t unsee it.

“I thought you stopped.” My voice is quieter this time, but it carries more weight. More anger.

Her body jerks slightly, and I realize my hands have tightened around her shoulders. She tries to pull away, but that only fuels the fire in my chest.

“You stopped, right?” My voice is sharp now, demanding. “Tell me you have.”

She doesn’t.

She can’t.

Instead, she wipes at her nose with the back of her hand, as if that’ll erase the evidence. As if that’ll make it not real.

But it’s too late.

My blood is boiling. My skin feels too tight. My hands curl into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms.

Why?

She told me she was working on herself. She told me she was done with this shit.

She promised she'd stop taking those hard drugs.

She promised.

And I believed her.

Stupid.

“T-Theo…” Her voice is small now, fragile. She won’t even look at me.

Because if she does, all she’ll see is disappointment.

Dad calls my name, but I don’t acknowledge him. I can’t. If I do, I might lose the last shred of control I have left.

I inhale sharply and turn away. “Get in the car.”

She doesn’t move.

I clench my jaw, eyes dark with frustration. “Mom.” My voice is low, steady, dangerous. “Get in the car. Now.”

I watch as she climbs into the car, her body unsteady, her hands trembling. She sinks into the passenger seat, curling in on herself like she’s trying to disappear.

I turn back toward the house, my fists clenched at my sides.

Then I hear him.

“I told you.”

His voice is calm, almost satisfied.

“She’s a lost cause.”

I freeze.

Who the hell does he think he is?

A lost cause?

Like he’s not the one who ruined everything? Like he’s not the reason she’s like this?

My entire body tenses, my breathing sharp and uneven. My head turns, and for a second—just a second—I imagine myself walking up to that gate, shooting down his smug, entitled words until there’s nothing left of them.

Until there’s nothing left of him.

Because he did this.

Not her.

Him.

He destroyed her. He ripped her apart, discarded her like she was nothing, just so he could chase after the next pretty thing that crossed his path.

Like she didn’t give him everything. Like she didn’t love him with every broken piece of herself.

And now he wants to act like she’s just some unfortunate mess that he has no part in creating?

I swallow the words threatening to rip out of me, my pulse hammering. If I start, I won’t stop. If I fight back, he’ll ruin me.

And he would.

He’s done it before.

My fingers twitch. My jaw locks.

Then I force my eyes shut, inhale deeply, and turn away.

I don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Instead, I walk to the car, grip the door handle, and slide in without so much as a glance at Mom. She’s shaking beside me, but I don’t speak.

I can’t.

I start the engine and pull out onto the road, my grip on the steering wheel tight enough to hurt. The silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating.

A million thoughts swirl in my mind—memories, regrets, what-ifs.

What if she never met him?

What if she never loved him?

What if she left when she still had the chance?

Would she be happy now? Would she be okay?

Would I be okay?

By the time we pull up to her house, my chest is burning with unspoken words.

She parts her lips, like she’s about to say something, but I stop her.

“I don’t want to know what that stunt was,” I say, my voice sharp. “But all I know is—please. Don’t do it again.”

I finally look at her, and for the first time tonight, I see it—the unshed tears in her eyes, the way she’s barely holding them back.

“You don’t understand,” she whispers.

I almost scoff.

“I’ve loved your father for as long as I can remember,” she continues, her voice shaking. “And every time I hear he’s with someone new, every day I feel like I was never good enough. And now he’s marrying someone even younger than the last, and I just… I can’t take—”

“What about me?!”

The words explode from me before I can stop them.

She flinches.

“What about me, Mom?” My voice is loud, raw, my frustration finally breaking through. “Did you even think about what I’m feeling through all of this? Did you once think about how this would affect me if someone recorded you out there, screaming at his gate like a lunatic?”

I drag in a sharp breath, my fingers trembling against the wheel.

“My career would’ve been over before it even began, because of that.” Just the thought of someone witnessing her act and sending it online makes me more afraid and angry than ever.

Mom’s expression shifts the moment my words sink in. The guilt washes over her features, softening her anger, making her look smaller, weaker.

I know she’s sorry.

I can see it.

But right now, I don’t want to accept it.

“Go inside, Mom.”

She listens this time. No protests, no stubborn remarks. Just a quiet nod. Her fingers curl around the door handle, but before she steps out, she turns back to me.

“Don’t think I don’t think of you, Theo. I do and…”

I clench my jaw. “Mom—”

“I love you, okay?”

She reaches out, cupping my face in her hands. Her touch is warm, but I don’t lean into it. I just sit there, staring at her as she forces a small, tired smile and steps out of the car.

I watch as she walks toward the house, her steps slow, almost hesitant. Then she stops at the door and turns back to me.

She mouths an I love you once more, waiting—hoping—for a response.

But I have nothing left to give.

I put the car in drive and pull away, leaving her standing there alone.

I hope she realizes what she just did. How this—the drugs, the scene at Dad’s, the lying—will only push us further apart.

My grip on the steering wheel tightens, pain shooting up my arms, but I welcome it. At least it’s something I can control.

At least it keeps me from breaking apart.

After driving around for a while, letting my mind clear, I head back to the bar.

The second I step inside, I inhale deeply, forcing my shoulders to relax. I take one more breath before plastering a smile on my face.

“Theo’s back!”

Sam’s voice booms across the bar, and the guys erupt in cheers. They’re drunk—wasted, most likely—but their energy is exactly what I need right now.

“How was it?”

Logan’s voice cuts through the noise. Unlike the others, his eyes aren’t hazy with alcohol. He’s sober enough to see me, to notice the tension I haven’t quite shaken off.

I slide into the booth beside him, shrugging. “Fine. Dad was just being Dad. Don’t think about it.”

I don’t meet his gaze. If I do, he’ll start digging, asking more questions, and I can’t deal with that right now.

Instead, my eyes drift toward the girls’ booth from earlier.

Empty.

Looks like they left.

I exhale, leaning back against the seat, letting the noise around me drown out the thoughts still lingering in my head.

A tap on my shoulder pulls me back to reality. I blink, my mind sluggishly registering the sensation before I turn my head.

Jaxon stands beside me, his signature smirk plastered across his face. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes glassy. He’s so drunk he nearly knocks his head against my shoulder.

“What?” I mutter, not in the mood for whatever bullshit he’s about to say.

“You sure you’re good?” His words are slightly slurred, but his smirk fades a little. “You look… different.”

“I’m fine.”

I reach for the bottles of alcohol scattered across the table, pulling them toward me. Without a second thought, I start twisting open the caps, lining them up beside me.

Jaxon raises an eyebrow, but before he can say anything, Logan speaks up.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually finishing those.”

I don’t respond. I just grab one of the bottles and take a long, burning gulp.

“Theo,” Logan says again, this time his tone carrying a warning.

I ignore it.

Another gulp.

And another.

I drink and drink, pushing back the weight in my chest, letting the alcohol drown out the frustration, the disappointment, the exhaustion.

I drink until tonight blurs at the edges.

Until I forget about today.

Until I forget about the problems waiting for me in the near future.