❝In which a celebrity dials a random number in hope of finding one last thing to make him smile before he commits suicide at the end of the month.❞
"I'm going to commit suicide in one months time."
"I think you have the wrong number."
"It can't be t...
(The song above suits this chapter so well I can't even begin to comprehend the kind of emotions it gave me whilst writing this chapter)
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Shane felt eerily calm for a man with a gun in his hand.
He wasn't entirely aware of what he was doing. He hadn't been for a long time. He had left his body long ago, leaving behind a disarray of skin and bones that somehow managed to continue to breathe. His body had betrayed him, the heart continuing to beat despite his exhaustion. It was time for his body to admit what he already knew. Shane Caliente was dead. He had been for a while and it was about time that his body followed in his footsteps.
He raised the gun, clenching his eyes shut as water broke past the dam of his eyelids. Shane's head was too much of a mess to think straight, once organized thoughts tangling themselves together into one giant knot of confusion. They invaded him all at once. It was in that moment that Shane saw everything. With his eyes closed. The illusion of control was gone, the universe had tugged at his strings one too many times.
Shane Caliente was done.
He was done with the guilt that reeked from the pores of his skin. He was done with his reflection and the stranger that resided there. He was done with the name that lit up stadiums and broke down his breath. He was done with the wires in his head that sparked constantly. He was done with the second-guessing. He was done with the insignificance. He was done with feeling lonely in a world full of people. He was done with constantly bringing the people around him to tears. He was done with his own tears. He was done with the head that refused to allow him to feel numb from emotions. He was done with love and the pain it caused. He was done with love. He was done with the fake love that the world applauded him with. He was done with the real love that the people closest to him gave because that, that was the most terrifying thing. He was done with the fear of what actually meaning something to someone could do to him. He was done with regretting everything he had ever done. He was done with being terrified by what he was capable of. What a human being was capable of. He was done.
He glanced up at the clock for a brief moment, gulping as the hand of time crawled ever closer to 1:07 PM. In 20 seconds it would be exactly two years ago that a car had collided with a family. In 20 seconds it would be the exact moment that two girls took their last breath.
He would do the same.
Shane closed his eyes once more, the sounds of the clock ticking far more powerful than the phone vibrating on the desk. The phone vibrating on his desk far more powerful than his childhood friend attempting to get through to him from the other side of the hotel room door.
