A Single Moment Of Sincerity [SOMEONE SOMEWHERE SEQUEL]

Reality is starting to unwind

The next few days I can barely remember. All I know is after Oli left I sent Danny out to buy me a shit ton of alcohol and spent the hours pissing it up the wall. If I ever left my room it was to go toilet and that was all. I didn't even get hung over because every time pain kicked in I'd just open up another bottle... or five. A week ago I'd refuse to drink alcohol... now it's all I wanted to do.

I can't even tell you how many days went passed, just that for those few days I guess I could say I felt okay. I was taken over by a numbness I so desperately craved and welcomed. The want for physical pain had completely died, and all those thoughts were silenced. Usually quietness makes me scared, but in the moment here and now it comforted me, and shielded me from the hurt I downed in. For once I felt as though I could breathe.

I just couldn't deal with my consequences, I was a fuck up and I knew it. And now I was running from life, hoping people would move on and forget me. I didn't even talk to anyone for that period of time, not even Danny after he dropped the booze off. I shut myself away from the rest of the world, and refused anyone access into my little intoxicated paradise. Maybe people were worried. But I doubt it. I didn't care about myself so why would they?

Sighing heavily, I downed the remnants of the vodka, letting it burn my throat as it went down. The firey liquid, right now, was my only friend. And as I let it keep my thoughts at bay I stumbled over to the wooden box by my bed which held my stash. My hands felt nothing but wood slats, but I put it down to drunken thinking. Then it dawned on me: I've got no more alcohol, I'm going to sober, I'm going to have to face the day.

That was enough to send me over the edge. I let out a scream, that in my state came out more like one of Danny's growls, and threw on my jacket, not even caring about shoes. In all honesty, that thought never crossed my mind. I unlocked my door and swung it open, trying to do my best attempt at walking as I made my way down the corridor.

“Where the fuck are you even going?” A sleepy James called from the living room.

“Out!” I snapped, a little too loud.

“At this time of night? It's 3 in the fucking morning!”

“I don't care, I'm going out.” I slurred the sentence as I made my way past him.

“Not until you tell me why.” He said evenly, his hands holding my shoulders firmly as he moved in front of me.

“Don't fuck with me James. I'm not in the mood. I need a drink.”

“I think you've had enough.” He smiled. Fucking smiled, did he not understand how much I needed it.

“No, James, now let me go!” I screamed again, I was just going for a drink, nothing more, why couldn't he see that.

“If you walk out that door to buy alcohol you aren't coming back. So think about it.” His voice lowered as he threatened me.

“You wouldn't kick me out.” I bluffed.

“Oh yeah? Just watch me.”

“Come on, James, you love me.”

“Yeah, what a fucking mistake that was. Do you really think I didn't know you were just using me? That I was your re-bound. I loved you for a long time, but it didn't matter because you always had Ben. Even when he played a stunt like he did, you still had him, but you walked away, didn't you. I knew it'd only be a matter of time before you crawled back to him, but I wanted to see if I could change that. I treated you the way you deserved and look at you. You're drunk out your head, you haven't even showered or eaten in days. You're pathetic.”

He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it. He can't mean it. Surely someone likes me. Listen to me; I'm pathetic.

With his words in my head I stormed out of the house, if I needed a drink before I certainly needed one now. Whether I was crying or not was irrelevant, also information I cannot remember in my distinct lack of sobriety. I stumbled down the stone steps and spilled onto the dark, South London streets. These streets were much like any others, with the extra film of desperation and fear smothering the barely breathable air.

My thoughts weren't even ordered, but I still plodded aimlessly through the streets. There were so many off-licenses around, but now when I need them I can't find a single one. I paced the uneven roads, my bare feet slapping at the icy, sticky paved floor. I rounded a corner, walking a street so similar to the one before.

The world before me began to spin, as I lost my foot and fell hard. Landing on my side. Something dug into my leg, and that's when I realised I still had my phone on me. With my vision fading and a sick feeling welling in my stomach I made an awkward grab for it and fumbled in a number.

“Hello?” A rough sleep voice spoke.

“Oli, it's me, I... I fucked up bad.” I admitted. Biting back a breath in anticipation.

“You're drunk aren't you.” He sighed.

“Iamnotdrunk!” I tried to defend myself but I was useless, I couldn't even help but slur my words into one long one.

“What did I fucking tell you about drinking!”

“Well I'm fucking-”

“Darling,” A sweet female voice spoke, as if being jolted awake. “Who are you talking to?”

“A friend. A friend who's been fucking stupid.” He spat down the phone. I know I have Oli, I that's why I fucking called.

“Just ignore it... Please. I want to go back to sleep, baby.”

He sighed once more and it was as if I could hear him roll his eyes. “I'm sorry,” He whispered. “I want to help you, but I can't. Hannah's tired. You'll have to get James.”

“No. No, you don't under-” he hung up before I could even finish my plea.

If I was sober and falling asleep I'd feel so vulnerable right now, but this alcohol had blessed me with the curse of trust and confidence in every decision I made, whether intentional or not. But frustrated, with Oli's outburst I blindly thumbed in 'I wouldn't normally ask for this, but I'm drunk, lost and ill. I'm sorry for everything I've said. I need you... now' through Facebook, thanking god I never turn location off. The next thing I remember is emptying my stomach contents on the pavement and rolling back into unconsciousness.

(A/N: So, I wrote a short arse chapter, I am sorry. Anyway, I think I've finally worked a bit of a plot out and well.. I keep saying I'm drawing it to a close, but I forget becuase part of me never wants this to end... so I never let it, and I'll change the plot. I'm reckoning about 8 chapters max now guys. But keep giving me feedback, because honestly I love hearing from y'all, especially since I'm really worried about this story being shitty. Anyway, love you all. Remeber, I love to see you smile. See ya, xoxox)