𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖗 | ᴄᴏʀᴘꜱᴇ ʜᴜꜱʙᴀɴᴅ x ᴏᴄ | ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴏɴᴇ

The Infamously Petty Corpse Husband

Saturday

After all the bullshit going on, everything that was posted the night before, Jack hadn't gotten much sleep. The sleep he was able to get was more him passing out from drinking and getting too high than it was actual rest. He thought back to everything that had happened before regrettably replaying all the stories. She might as well hand him a shovel to dig his own grave because he was damn near close. If she told on herself, and was just doing all of this to get a reaction out of him, she surely had her wish fulfilled now.

Once he'd calmed down enough that the shaking in his hands subdued, and he could work his phone again, he'd promptly left her several voice messages detailing his recent feelings about everything in a very clear communicative way... before blocking her on all accounts, and it was still only ten AM. If she wanted to play this way, he was game. If she got her rocks off from sending him through an emotional whiplash hell, he'd just need to outplay her, to make her hurt the way that he did.

It didn't take him long at all to think of several ways to get back at her. He pulled out his phone and drunkenly scrolled through old pictures. After almost a year of living together, he'd saved so many stupid photos of them, well, mostly her. His stomach churned painfully as he scrolled through them all, occasionally landing on a nice photo of them together. He bit down hard on his lip, fighting the hopeless urge to finish what she started and ruin his life for her. Even when he thought he hated her- he still wanted to give her whatever she asked for. He went so far as to hover his finger over the post button on the 'CORPSE' account, let the fans let her know who she was living with as he gave her what she wanted.

As he copped out, he continued scrolling before stopping immediately as he spotted it. It was a picture of them dancing at the bar on Halloween night that Imane had taken. He was staring at her- undeniably enamored by the way she could look so good and move so gracefully through their little dance while being blasted out of her mind. She- of course- was looking away, clueless to his affections, as usual.

That would be the way to get back at her. He was drunk and manic enough for anything right now... and dropping a few songs out of nowhere would not only get her attention- but the attention of many other women as well, it seemed like the way to go. As much as he hated the idea of said attention- He loved the idea that she might finally realize what she'd been rejecting over and over again for the last year. If she was so keen on making him think she'd been down when she wasn't- he'd show her how little it mattered, how quickly he could turn away and not care. He could play shit off like he wasn't desperately in love, especially when she so easily forgot about him. He sat down at his computer and began to record the first song.

"AghhHhHhh... Corpse you fuckin---" He laughed to himself. He was far too drunk to be doing this, but he knew it would drive her insane... He wanted to make it clear this was -for her- and that he knew exactly how to press her buttons when he wanted to.

He grabbed a small, plain ace bandage along with some alcohol (both isopropyl and drinking) and moved to the couch to tend to the larger cuts on his hand from smashing the mirror. He scrolled for a minute, taking a large pull from the bottle as he tried to pick a show. The hangover he was nursing with a new bottle, mixed with the angst of the weekend, had him feeling especially welcome to more self-harm as he flipped on the show she'd always begged him to watch, New Girl.

As much as it hurt thinking about her at all, it was comforting. The main character reminded him a lot of Violet, although not nearly as three dimensional but what could he expect from a sitcom? He passively watched for a while, trying to mindlessly tend to his wounds while it played softly in the background until an episode towards the end caught his attention. He paused it right after it played, rewinding and watching it twice over. Was there a deeper reason that she had been so adamant that he watched this? No, no he was overthinking it. Right?