LABYRINTH | Scarlett Johansson x Daughter

50 | labyrinth.

Standing in the doorway like a deer in headlights, is Oliver. Hair scruffy, and eyes bloodshot and glassy as he brutally drags his nails up and down his arm. His cheeks are more hollow than I last remember and by the way his clothes sit loosely over his body, the drop in weight is evident. He doesn't seem to be in a good place at all.

With his bottom lip trembling, he shakes his head and slowly steps backward out of the room, deciding to leave. I surprise myself with the lack of hesitation I have when I stand up and go after him, informing the group I'll be back.

"Oliver, wait," I beg, jogging through the hallway of the community centre to quickly catch up before he can step outside. He doesn't stop. "Oliver, please."
He still doesn't listen.

"Look, I'm so sorry for the way things happened between us, but please don't leave because I'm here. You deserve to get help," I tell him, wary to keep my voice gentle.

"It's not just because of you, Kenzie," his fast-pace finally comes to a halt as turns to look at me, a defeated expression on his face. "I don't know why I decided to come in the first place. I'm so tired of trying to get sober. It's exhausting."

The complete despair in his voice and the several tears that start to fall down his cheeks makes my heart churn. Regardless of where we stand, I still care for Oliver as I would for any other friend and it hurts me to see him in this state.

"Do you want to get clean?" I question, lowering the volume of my voice.

"Of course I want to, Kenzie," he scoffs lightly and crosses his arms over his chest, "I just can't. I've tried so many times, but I quite literally have no support from anyone. My parents put all their time and energy into my sisters and are threatening to kick me out if I don't get my shit together. I asked Dad if I could see a psychologist because we don't have the money for rehab, and I was told to stop being selfish. All of my friends have completely abandoned me, and I can't even get mad at them for doing so because I'm a fucking wreck and treated them all like shit, including you, and I'm so sorry for what I did. I didn't mean to get aggressive, I was having withdrawals and I know that doesn't excuse anything but—"

"I know," I breathe, wrapping my arms around his fragile body in attempt to stop his spiralling. "I know."

The cry that rips from his throat as he rests his forehead on my shoulder, brings tears to my eyes, forcing me to swallow the lump in my own throat.

"I'm sorry for what I did to you too," I admit. "I'm here for you though, if you can give me another chance. You're not alone, Oliver, even if it feels like it right now. I'm sorry your parents haven't been better to you, and if you need to talk about it, ever, I'm always here to listen. I truly do understand what that's like."

Lifting his head from my shoulder, he nods and wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. "Thank you."

"Of course," I send him a gentle smile, my hands placed on each of his shoulders. "You should come in to the meeting."

"I don't know," he takes a deep breath, "I've never been to one before."

"Well, if it helps you feel any better, this is only the second one I've been to since getting out of rehab, I don't know anyone in there. You don't even have to talk if you don't want to, you can just listen. I can guarantee nobody is going to judge."

Giving him time to ponder, I take myself to the water cooler just a couple of meters ahead of me and fill up a cup for each of us. When I return, he says a quick 'thank you' and takes one from me. "I'll come in."
With a single nod, I send him a small smile. "Okay."

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"Hi, babe," Scarlett greets me with a smile as I get into the passengers seat of her car, "how was school?"