**TRIGGER WARNING** Depictions of alcoholism and depression are made. Brief bulimic scene depicted. Reader discretion is advised.

Here we are

In this abyss

Swore one day

It would never come to this

So shut your eyes

And tell me goodbye

It's not like 

I  could ever die

--From the song One By One The Gods Slowly Fall

Lyrics by Orion Bauwens

I walk in, tossing my sunglasses down on the table that's by the front door in the foyer. A few days have passed and I haven't spoken to Ben and Jake--fuck them. Honestly besides Gloria, I haven't talked to, well, anyone.

I just got back from trying to convince her I wanted to go on the road again. She told me the same damn thing Ben and Jake did. So I left.

She had the audacity to suggest I wanted to tour because I'm running away from my problems. So I left.

I am so stupid. I ran away. I proved her right.

She had called after me as I stormed out of her office that Jake and Ben were worried about me. She said Tristan had even called her. But I ignored her, not saying a word.

Fuck them. Fuck all of them. I'm fine. I just need a distraction since my life is still fucked up...

God, I still hadn't even been able to see the evidence of my court case! What was the big deal? I just want to make sure they got the right person. I just want to make sure I only have one stalker, yaknow? I don't need something else creepy to happen.

So I just need to go on tour, or record an album maybe, so I don't think of this shit. And that's why I've been drinking--it's not like I can't stop when I want to. I just want my brain to shut the fuck up.

And that's really a majority of my anxiety. I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm waiting for something disturbing to be painted on my house, or maybe get a brick through my window. I'm expecting the cops to call and be like, "Well gosh, Orion, sorry about that! Guess we got the wrong one! Golly gee, we'll do better this time!".

Because that's how my fucking life goes. There's always another fucking shoe. I could fill a Payless.

I think I'm getting paranoid. I fully admit that. The more I stay inside, the worse it gets. Leaving my house to meet Gloria sent me into a damn panic attack, which sucks. I haven't had one of those in awhile.

So now that I'm home, the first thing I'm gonna do is take one of my leftover anxiety pills--

"Orion."

I lift my head. You can imagine my surprise when Tristan is standing there. I mean, sure, I gave him my key and my alarm code a while ago, but...

"Oh, hey."

Tristan narrows his eyes and holds up an unopened beer bottle.

Oh, fuck me.

"I can explain--"

"Please do."

My mind whirls. I'd love to explain but nothing but the truth keeps rolling around my mind. And I'm not going to say that.

"Well?"

"Um, well. I, er--"

He comes forward so quickly it makes me flinch. Not that I think he'd physically attack me or anything, but...Yeah. Before I know it he's in front of me.

"Please explain to me why you have a fridge full of beer."

"Party?" I squeak.

He narrows his eyes. "Do you really wanna lie to me right now, Orio?"

I swallow. "N-no..."

"Alright, you have one more chance to be up front."

"I am!"

"So the reason why you've been pulling away from everyone isn't because you're depressed?"

"N-no."

"The reason why you don't have any meds for your depression is because--what? They're being kept elsewhere?"

I'm startled. That quickly dissolves into anger and I clench my hands into fists. "You went through my HOUSE?"

He points towards the kitchen. "The reason your mini-fridge in the garage has even more beer in it is for this party, huh?"

"Fuck you! How dare you fucking go through my shit, Tristan!"

"Fuck me?" he screams at me now. "Fuck me? My boyfriend is standing here, in front of me, lying to my face, and all you can say is fuck you?"

"How could you break my trust like that?"

I'm happy my house is large and my neighbors are so far away. We're getting into a very ugly, loud screaming match.

"Break your trust?"

"Yes!"

"Break your trust? Orion, you're standing here fucking lying to me!"

"I'm not lying! It's for a fucking party--"

"Oh really? A party for what, huh? And when is this fucking party? And why wasn't I invited?"

"It's tomorrow night! And I was going to invite you!"

"Yeah, just fucking dig yourself deeper, Orion..."

"So are you coming or not? It's at nine."

"Really? Who the fuck is invited?"

"Everyone."

He pulls out his cell. "So if I were to call up Jake and Ben right now, they'd know about it--"

I'm pretty sure the panic on my face is evident. I go to grab the phone. "Tristan--"

He holds the phone above his head. "And if I were to call Heather, when do you think she'd tell me was the last time she saw you?"

I screw up my face. "Heather? How the fuck would you get in touch with Heather? You don't have her number."

"Yes I do! Because I fucking went through your phone awhile ago, and I called Heather, and I called your psychiatrist, and none of them have seen you in weeks, Orion! Weeks!"

I'm starting to wheeze. "How could you do that? How could you--how could you FUCKING DO THIS TO ME?"

"To you? What about ME Orion? What about Jake and Ben and Heather? Here we fucking go again, it's just like last year! You're so fucking Goddamn selfish!"

"Get out! Just shut up and get the fuck out of my house!"

"Think about what you're saying, Orion."

Oh, I am.

"Get the FUCK out of my FUCKING FACE Tristan! Fucking, go back to Texas for all I care! We're done!"

He looks shocked, and then his face crumples. "W-what?"

"You heard me! I want nothing to do with you! You're a pest and you invaded my privacy! I'm supposed to be able to trust someone who I'm in a relationship with."

"Look in the fucking mirror!" he screams at me.

"Get out."

He swallows, looking shaken. "Do you mean that, Orio?"

"Yes," I say quietly as I glare at the man who means the most to me in my entire life.

Even as I speak the words I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I just want him out of my face. I guess maybe I am running away from my problems.

"We're over. I'm breaking up with you. You're not my boyfriend anymore."

I can see Tristan's Adam's apple bob up and down several times, but besides that his expression has turned stony. He walks over, shoves the bottle into my chest, and glares.

"Fine. Enjoy your party."

And as soon as I hear the door shut, I realize that I fucked up. I really fucked up. Like, I don't know if I were to try and fix this Tristan would even let me.

When I realize the bottle in my hand isn't worth anything compared to Tristan, and that I miss him already, I wing it against the wall as hard as I can and start crying. Immediately I have a panic attack and it's a bad one, really bad. I can feel my lunch starting to come up, so I run as fast as I can to the bathroom before I get sick all over the floor.

I puke as soon as I'm at the toilet. I puke again. Then I make myself puke...

Because at least it's something I can control, and it's nice to be in control of something.

~

"Are you alright?"

I'm on Jake's porch half an hour later. I'm sobbing, holding my right arm with my left hand. Snot is dripping down my nose and I wipe it with my sleeve.

"Do I look like I'm alright?"

Jake steps aside and lets me in. I don't know where to go. Honestly I don't know what to do. So I just stand there stupidly.

"Wanna sit?"

I nod, and Jake leads me to his drawing room. We sit down and I curl up on the couch. Jake leans forward, sliding a box of tissues to me. I grab it and cradle it.

"What's going on?"

"I--I broke up with Tristan."

He looks genuinely surprised, his lips parting. "What?"

"I broke up with--"

"No, I heard you--why?"

So I tell him. I tell him everything. Everything is a lot. Everything is admitting he and Ben were right, and so was Gloria, that I'm not okay and that I'm pushing everyone away. And I admit that I haven't been to AA, or therapy, and I haven't been taking my meds.

I say all that because even if I didn't, I'm sure Tristan will. Even though I fucking broke up with him, he's that kind of guy. Tristan is a really good guy. And fuck me, what have I done?

By the end of everything Jake is looking at me. I can't quite pin the look. It's a mixture of hurt, disappointment, worry, and anger. It makes me want to just crawl away into the dirt and burrow my way to a different country and never come back. My skin starts prickling and I just want to rip it all off.

"Why are you telling me this? What do you expect from me?" Jake's voice is soft and flat, his eyes lacking life. "D'ya want me to get angry at you, scream at you? Do you want me to tell you to call up Tristan right now and beg for forgiveness? Do you want me to be happy you broke up with him?"

"I d'no..."

"Do you want me to call up Gloria and stage another intervention? Do you want me to drag you by the ear and bring you to rehab myself?"

I wince. "Why are you being mean?"

Jake leans forward, the same expression on his face. "Mean? No Orion, I'm not being mean. How am I supposed to love you when I don't know what to do and I can't seem to help you?"

I start crying again.

"I'm not being mean, Orion. I'm being defeated. I don't know what to do with you anymore. I tried. I tried but I just can't anymore, and I'm sorry."

"A-are we not friends anymore?"

He smiles faintly. "You'll always be my friend, Orion, but I think you should leave now, because I don't know what more to say."

So I leave.