Misanthrope

14

Do you ever wish you could go back in time to a time where you weren't so fucking miserable? If I could, I would go so far back I would still be a cell in my dads balls.

The sound of the doorbell rings throughout the house as Chase and I finish watching the third horror film of the night. The shining was scary, but has nothing on the omen.

I groan loudly and bury my head into Chase's shoulder. We were lying in his bed devouring the third tub of ice cream together when it rang.

"What the fuck, what time is it?" I question. Chase picks up his phone off of the night stand and presses the home button.

"Four o'clock in the fucking morning" Chase grumbles angrily.

Why can't people just fuck off and let me wallow in self pity with my best friend in peace? Is it so much to ask?

The second ring of the doorbell brings me out of my moody cloud of thoughts and Chase sits up.

He grumbles something under his breath and gets up off of the bed, throwing his shirt on and sluggishly making his way out of the room.

I get up and follow him curiously. Who the fuck could be knocking on his door at this hour.

When I reach the bottom step of the stairs I watch as Chase opens the front door.

"What" Chase snaps. I can't see who is at the door, but it can't be anyone good.

A few moments go by as Chase listens intently to what the person on the other side of the door has to say.

He sighs and looks down at the ground before looking back up again.

"Okay thank you" Chase nods his head and closes the door.

He sighs sadly and slides down the door with his back against it and buries his head in his hands.

"Chase, what is it?" I ask cautiously.

"That was a cop" he states.

"And?" I begin to panic a little.

"Five of my relatives died in a fire yesterday" he says sadly.

"Fuck, Chase, I'm sorry man" I say rushing to his side and sitting next to him.

I've never really been great at the whole comforting thing. I've never had anyone to comfort but myself and Chase, and I definitely wasn't good at it.

"I don't really give a fuck about three of them, just my little cousins man, they had so much going for them" he looks up to the ceiling now and blinks a few tears out of his eyes.

I have only seen Chase cry a handful of times. Once, when were coming down from some acid and he was feeling really depressed, after my first and second attempt, when he came out to me, and now.

When he cried while coming down, he was upset about how much of a mess his life had been since he came out and how he wished he was normal. He wished he was straight.

I told him to shut the fuck up. Like I said, not great at the comforting thing.

But I also told him that being his true authentic self, even if he lost some people along the way, was the most important thing.

Then we ate ice cream and got high again the next day, so it was all good.

"Let it all out babe" I say while rubbing soothing circles into his shoulders and hugging him awkwardly.

He begins to cry into my shoulder. Hard. I guess he had a lot of thing bottled up for so long and it's all coming out now.

After what seems like hours of trying my best to comfort him on the cold tile floor his crying begins to die down and his breathing pattern normalises.

"You gotta get some sleep dude" I say, lifting his head up to look me in the eyes.

"Yeah okay" he sighs and we help each other get up off of the floor.

We walk upstairs and into his room in silence. He climbs into the bed first and lifts up the blanket for me to climb in.

He is turned so his back is facing me. I hear a few light whimpers and decide he needs a hug.

Hugging makes thing better right?

I wrap my arms around his broad back and snuggle my head into the back of his head.

"It's gonna be okay" I whisper. I go to pull away from the hug but he grabs my hand.

"Stay?" He asks and I nod.

He has been here for me for so much. I owe him this, even if it is only for one night.

After a while his breathing becomes shallow as he falls into a deep sleep.

I try my best to keep my thoughts from wandering but no matter what I force myself to think about it always leads to me thinking about the one dickhead I would rather not think about right now.

His gorgeous brown hair. His mesmerising eyes. His luscious pink lips. His sharp jawline and his angular face. His d-

I force myself to stop thinking about that for at least a minute. I'm not thinking about my ex's penis while lying in bed with my best friend who just lost five of his family members.

But, no matter how hard I try to keep my mind trained on the emotional mess of a boy beside me my mind always wanders to him.

The way he smiled. Gosh his smile is so beautiful. I wish I could see him smile right now. I want to be the one to make him smile.

Make him smile? You couldn't even make him stay, Alex.

As soon as I think about that, all of the bad things start coming into mind and I instantly feel a tightness in my chest.

I wasn't enough for him. I'm not enough for anyone. I can't believe I ever thought a guy, or anybody for that matter, would care about me other than Chase.

Sometimes I question why the fuck Chase cares about me.

I'm just a depressed, self destructive, angry, anxiety ridden stoner who has nothing better to do other than wallow in self pity.

I'm a sorry excuse of a human.

What feels like hours go by of me criticising myself in my head until I finally feel myself drift off into an uneasy sleep.

My dreams consist of flashbacks of my dad and the second most hated man in my life.

Logan.

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter! It was a bit of a filler chapter but I have a somewhat rough idea of what's going to happen in the next few chapters.

Thanks for reading!