i never promised you a rose garden » fillie

» chapter 1 «

f i n n ☁︎

I inhaled, feeling the fresh air enter my lungs. Exhaling, I opened my eyes, staring blankly into the mirror. My reflection stared back, unwavering and supposedly strong. Taking in another solid breath, I brought my attention to the bathroom. The toilet seat was closed as I had been sitting on it. Tissues were scattered in the trash, and the light bulbs surrounding the mirror threatened to burn out. They were hot to the touch, a result of standing in the bathroom for the better part of an hour. One bulb had died. A few more had started to flicker threateningly.

I faced the sink and slowly turned the faucet on, watching the refreshingly crystal water drip out slowly, eventually erupting into a flowing stream. I reached a hand out to touch the water. It was icy cold, contrasting from the light bulbs.

I knew they were looking for me. I could think of them, pondering, wondering, where was Finn Wolfhard? Where was the budding actor who landed one of the largest roles in one of the most influential TV shows that broke the internet? I didn't know any more about where he was than they did. I couldn't even recognize myself. I only saw a messy mop of black hair; emotionless, unfeeling, impeccably icy cold eyes, and tear tracks running across this human shell devoid of any real identity or soul.

Who was I? I didn't feel like Finn Wolfhard, that was for certain. I didn't even feel real. I was just so... empty. It was a terrible feeling and there was no other way to describe it other than that.

Empty. It wasn't overwhelming sadness or something of that sort; just deep, expanding emptiness. Maybe that was what was weighing me down. It was like a black hole or abyss, suctioning everything and anything in to feel something, anything, but it had only succeeded in taking my soul. Even taking a single breath caused me to feel suffocated. I was both suffocating and suffering because the abyss was sucking me in. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't feel, I couldn't think.

A loud knock at the door distracted me from my ringing mind.

"Finn?" a quiet voice asked.

"Millie?" I asked in reply.

"Finn," the voice exhaled in relief. "God, the crew was getting scared. We thought you had been kidnapped or something..." She trailed off. I knew she was twisting her ring. Whenever Millie was nervous, she always twisted her ring in intervals of three. It was a little nervous habit she had inherited from Gaten who tapped his foot. We had all taken something from each other, showing just how close we all were. But even being as close as we were, we all had our secrets.

"I'm fine," I replied, leaning my head against the mirror. Liar. I sighed. My mind just needed to stop overthinking. I wasn't fine. I corrected myself: I was fine. I was okay.

"Um, so, we're supposed to be filming the next scene, and they need you."

I turned off the faucet, watching the steady stream flicker to nothing. I turned the lights off. They seemed to relax from their torment. I opened the door. Millie almost fell onto me, catching herself at the last moment. She had been leaning on the door.

"Sorry," I distractedly said. Millie furrowed her eyebrows, looking at me. There was something off about her. "When did you shave your head?" I asked, confused.

"Finn, you were there, remember?" Millie touched her head, slightly angling her face away from mine. "You walked me in and waited in the next room for half an hour."

"Yeah, yeah.." I answered faintly.

"Do you remember your lines?" she asked, changing the subject. She bumped me on the shoulder. It was a habit of ours to gently bump the other person on the shoulder to ease the tension. It was something Millie and I shared, the one thing which only we had.