Punk & Metal

Undo All the Pain

2 YEARS LATER

I gave the music store to the boys. In other words, the night before I left for Arizona I left the keys to it in their apartment with a ninety-nine cent thank you card from Walmart. I left Julia a check that would cover my rent for the rest of the year so she could take my name off when it came time. I also tossed my phone into a river while slowly roasting a few of my clothes over an open fire. I now have and iPhone 6, which is honestly useless because I have no friends. I cut my hair as short as Kiera Knightley and dyed it dark navy blue to make sure no one would recognize me. Wyatt never went to prison, because I bailed him out and decided to not press charges since I believe he didn't actually have anything to do with my possibly poisoning and near-to-death stabbing.

And as the cherry on top, I have no idea if Michael Clifford is alive. I'm also okay with that.

Currently, I work as a store manager at a Hot Topic while living in a small affordable house near my job. Derek visits whenever he can, which is usually every other week or so. He still has no girlfriend, but doesn't care. He says he'll worry when he turns thirty next year.

The only thing that I've kept is the guitar, it's picks, and my laptop. Everything else was left back there, in hell.

At least that's what I thought I did.

I woke up this morning to the sound of my doorbell. Without a care in the world, I walked out of my bedroom in my Black Veil Brides pajamas to answer whoever was there. But when I opened the door, my heart fell out of my chest and voice choked in my throat.

There he was, dark brown hair, a red plaid button up with the classic emo jeans and a new arm band tattoo.

"Michael. W-what are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"Can I come in?" He asks all nonchalant.

"What? No!"

"Please Blake, I've been driving for the past five and a half hours from Los Angeles."

"Why?"

"Blake, let me in." Strangely enough, I did. He calmly entered my humble home, taking a nice long look around. I couldn't tell if he was happy about how I moved on or sad about it. His facial expressions seemed like a mix of both.

"Nice place."

"Thanks.." He walked to my living room where I had some pictures of family on a shelf of books and started to study them.

"You never answered my calls."

"I changed my number."

"You didn't want to talk to me?"

"Couldn't remember your number."

"Oh." Michael continued to walk around until he finally settled on my couch. I sat across from him on my other couch, and waited for him to say something else. Eventually I decided to initiate the conversation.

"What happened to you?"

"Well, I stayed in a coma for a year and surprisingly made it out with only a few speech problems. I was able to get over most of them, but I still stutter sometimes."

"You're not stuttering now."

"I've rehearsed this conversation."

"Oh."

"How could you leave?" His eyes were locked on mine now.

"I had to. I felt like a disease and I felt like it wasn't right for me to stay there."

"You didn't even say goodbye. You practically ghosted me while I was unconscious. You know how mean that is?"

I shifted in my place a little, "Very?"

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, leaning back, "Duh."

"I'm sorry."

"Well, you should be." We stayed in an awkward and painful silence until he took a deep breath. "But I didn't drive all the way over here to tell you how you screwed me over."

"Then why are you here?"

"Julia is getting married, and you are invited." With that blunt statement he grabbed a small white envelope from his back pocket and tossed it at me. I almost didn't catch it because I was so surprised. When I opened it, her name and some guy named David Gattin were printed in a fancy cursive font. It said that I, Wesley Blake, was cordially invited to their wedding.

"How is she getting married? She's barely going to turn 20 in November, this month, which is before this so-called wedding."

He shrugged and stood, pushing his sleeves up, "If you got a problem, go talk to her yourself, or forever hold your peace."

Michael made his way to the door, but before he left, I ran to him and grabbed his arm, "I have to ask you something else."

"What is it?"

"How did you find me?"

"You may think you've been underground, but you're not. I was on Instagram the other day and I happen to be friends with and follow one of your friends from work and he posted a video of you tripping on some empty boxes. And the location was here, so I came here, and I called him and asked if he knew where you lived. He gave me your address in two minutes flat."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, "Was it Dominic?"

"Yeah, does he come over often or something?" Something in his voice challenged me to answer him. I don't know if it was in my imagination but I swear I could hear a hint of jealousy in his tone. It made me suspicious yet excited.

I tried to smartly respond to him, "He drops by here and there. Nothing too serious though, if that's what you're asking."

"No, I was just wondering."

"Hm, Okay."

He bit his lip, then step out of the door, "I'm gonna go."

"I thought you were driving for five and a half hours. Don't you wanna take a break?"

He chuckled lightly before answering me, "Nah, me and the guys rented a hotel room a few minutes from here, so I can take a break there."

Wait what? Did he just say...what?

"Do you mean.."

His playful smile fell at the realization of his words, "Yeah, all of them. Ash, Cal, and Luke are here."

I nodded and he gave me a quick wave before getting into his car and backing out of my driveway.

They're here. All of my little nightmares are taking camp in a hotel possibly a mile away from me. My best friend is tying the knot. How does my life keep getting screwed like this?