worst ; gawsten

fourteen

last chapter before the epilogue. damn.

"Are you sure?"

"Really Aws, we don't have to- Blonde was just-"

"Blonde was two months ago," he emphasizes, bites out the words and squeezes his eyes shut. "We needa put another song out and I want it to be this one. The video's done, why not?"

"I thought Not Warriors was gonna be our next single." Otto slides out of his bunk and joins them in the lounge area. He leans against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. "Wasn't that the plan?"

"Aws wants to change it," Lucas says quietly. "I mean, I'm all for it. S'a damn good video. I just don't know if they're gonna be okay with it. Like, didn't you already send them the old plans before you redid the entire thing?"

"Not like, anything real," he mutters. "I sent them my shitty notes. And I said nothing was confirmed, 'cause it wasn't. Things change. People change."

He swallows once he says the words, ducks his head and bites down on his lip. His teeth sink right back into the groove they've created over this tour, the reddened crevice in his skin that hurts the tiniest bit more every time he presses into it. It's like digging further and further into an inflated balloon, unsure of when exactly it'll pop but knowing at some point that it will.

The hold on his hand tightens. He inhales, heavy and tight, looks up and into Geoff's eyes. Geoff widens his smile, grips his hand even tighter and starts to rub his thumb against the back of his palm. "Lucky People's a great song. Fan favorite for sure. It was meant to be played on the radio. And we can release Not Warriors after. Closer to the album. It'll all work out."

"Geoff-"

"It'll all work out," Geoff repeats, firmer this time. Awsten sighs and turns his face into Geoff's shoulder, forces in a breath and lets it out slowly. Breathe. In, and out. You're okay. You're okay. Just breathe.

It'll all work out.

Will it, though? Will it ever?

He doesn't want to be like this anymore. He doesn't want to think about it with each breath he takes, ruminate and mull and feel, like everything is collapsing it on itself, like he's a broken-down building, a flower that can't stop wilting, a human traffic accident splayed out on the freeway while the world around him keeps on living.

He doesn't want it to hurt anymore. It will, until it stops. It'll hurt until it doesn't and he has to ride the wave out. He knows that. He knows he has to give it time. He knows one day he'll wake up and it won't hurt as much as it does right now, one day it'll hurt so little he'll barely notice it, one day the thing, the person he thought he couldn't live without, will be a mere blip on his radar.

That day is taking far too long to come and he doesn't know how much longer he has before he's utterly done.

It'll all work out.

And that's what he thinks, goes over and over in his head as Geoff's arm comes down to his waist. He lets him lead him over to the bunk area, feels Geoff nod against his back and then climbs into his bunk. Geoff follows and drapes an arm across his back, and he sighs.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I know m'a mess. Thanks for putting up with it."

"Hey." Geoff's hand snakes down to find his own, and then he squeezes tight and laces their fingers together as he continues speaking, "you're not an obligation, Aws. You gotta stop thinking you are. I'm here because I want to be."

"She didn't wanna be," he forces out. He waits for the tears, waits for the breath to leave his throat and the lump to follow.

Nothing comes. It feels empty. Like he's been knocked down and the ruble is too scattered to even know where to begin rebuilding. "And I didn't know until it was over."