i never promised you a rose garden » fillie

» chapter 13 «

f i n n ☁︎

We were filming again. My mind was elsewhere. I couldn't focus on my lines. Blaming it on a cold, I tried to go through what scenes I could. I honestly didn't even remember what I filmed. It was all a blur as I went through each scene.

I met up with Millie later, cradling my frozen fingers around a steaming cup of coffee. Millie was on her second cup of coffee. I never understood how she could drink so much. I didn't like the bitter taste, so I always added a lot of cream and sugar.

"What's my reason?" I blankly asked, stirring more sugar in.

"Stranger Things," Millie, with a completely different and positive attitude, said. "Live for Stranger Things and all of the future seasons." I nodded, sipping my coffee.

"Thank you," I answered. I gazed at my coffee, which was a light brown with all the cream.

"For what?" Millie asked, slightly confused.

"For helping me. I can't be the easiest person to deal with, and I've said some mean things. These reasons are genuinely so nice. Thank you for caring. It's been fun." She set her coffee down, suspiciously looking at me.

"Are you telling me good-bye?" Millie dead-panned and grabbed my arm.

"No?"

"Then why do you sound so...done? Finished?"

"I'm not, I'm saying thank you. I'm being grateful. Thanksgiving was a while ago."

"Exactly, a while ago. And you're just now realizing this?"

"Millie, I'm trying here."

"And I am too. I don't think you realize that. I don't think you see how much of a toll this takes on all of us. It's not just you that's suffering. It's me and the cast and your family and your fans. You don't think we notice? We all have. You haven't seen the comments: where's Finn? Why is he acting weird? Is he depressed? Is Finn emo?"

"If I stayed strong, then so can you," I murmured, plopping my cup on the table with unnecessary force. "I've made it this far thanks to your prodding."

"And it seems our roles have been switched." Millie crossed her arms. Our coffees were forgotten as we fell deeper into the argument.

"Why are you acting so annoyed? I'm acting happy." I asked. Millie shrugged, bumping past me. I grasped her arm, turning her around. The few inches I was taller than Millie helped me stop her.

"That's all it is to you. Acting. It's a game," Millie slowly pointed out, breaking free of my grip. "Unlike you, I enjoy this. I like spending time with you. I like pushing myself to help a friend, to help you, and I'm glad you trust me with your life. I'm annoyed that you could be ending your life. I'm angry that you seem to not care that you're destroying so many people emotionally. I'm angry that you're making me fall in lov-" she cut herself off, looking surprised.

"What? Finish your sentence," I evenly said.

"I- Finn. I- you're- I'm annoyed that I'm having fun," Millie stuttered, turning pink.

"That's not what you said."

"Um, Finn, please. Let it go," she pleaded. I immediately understood her. I silently slipped away, forgetting my coffee and trying not to notice the crystal tears that delicately threaded their way down her face.

My mind remained unfocused as I wandered around the set, finally deciding to climb up to the roof. Tears dripped down my face, mirroring Millie's face. I saw Millie standing at the edge of the roof, dangling a foot off of it and waiting for the wind to take her wherever she wanted. Except I knew where she wanted to go.

It was down.

And then she screamed. Was it wrong of me to admire her lung support in that moment? Was it wrong of me to actually love how controlled her breath was? Probably. I owed singing for making me think about everything in a completely different way.

Yet, it was pitiful to see someone so strong and perfect, finally break. I know that it was definitely wrong of me to be happy, but it meant that someone finally understood how I felt, how I was drowning and no one saw me.

It was like trying to take a breath but underwater. It was feeling the water pour into one's lungs, except one could rush to the surface. He or she could kick and swim and fight. I, on the other hand, had weights tied to me, weights that refused to relent. They dragged me to the bottom of a stupid endless ocean. I was swallowed alive.

Brought back to the rooftop, I watched Millie throw her head back, tears fully present on her cheeks. Her eyes met mine, and the emotion fell out of her eyes. It literally dropped. It was scary to see how quickly Millie could drop emotions.

"What do you want?" Millie asked, feigning strength and courage.

"Come here," I whispered. I didn't want her to jump.

"The way you did?" She ran her fingers through her hair and choked back a sob. "The way you almost didn't?"

"Millie, please."

"Why can't you see that maybe, maybe the one person who can help you, can't help herself?" It literally hit me like a brick. It wasn't just me who was drowning. It was her too, and she was doing everything to help me while I sucked off of her like a leech. I was forcing her to help me and save me, but we were both in the ocean. She was pushing me to the surface yet being pulled to the bottom. She was falling to help me.

Millie was already drowning, and I was too late to save her. In my mind, my endless ocean, she had cut off my weights and taken them for herself, not caring that I would have wanted to drown with her. Because it was more beautiful to drown with someone than to drown alone.

In stories, one expected a happy ending. Stories always finished happily. Not this story. Finn Wolfhard and Millie Brown would not have happy endings because even the most perfect and kind people can have the worst and darkest ends.

Fate wasn't kind or benevolent. Fate didn't give boons or blessings or perfectly happy endings. Fate was a cruel tormentor who enjoyed bringing soulmates together only to rip them apart. Fate loved to seemingly bring people to the light at the end of the tunnel only to turn them around and throw them back to the beginning of their long twisty and dark tunnel.

Happy endings didn't exist. If someone thought he got a happy ending, they were wrong. All he got was a perfectly boring little life at the end of a cul-de-sac. He would work a boring little job at the convenience store at the end of the block. He would come home to an empty house where his wife never stops the arguments and his children are ungrateful for him. He would wonder when his wife and himself fell out of love. He would continue living that tragic and seemingly perfect little life until he died.

I didn't hold out much hope that Fate would change my story. Fate loved the story of Millie Brown and Finn Wolfhard because Fate adored messing and screwing things up. I think Fate already pushed us past the point of no return, and it scared me, knowing that two beautiful people were really just broken. Like a broken record player, playing the same song on repeat until something finally put it out of its misery and turned it off.