always ending the night together

twenty-four

Mitchel's POV

"Clinton, I don't know what to do anymore. Only talking for music purposes with Christian isn't working anymore," I said to Clinton as we were finishing in the studio. He sighs at me before going back to putting his sax in its case.

"What do you mean? It seemed fine to me? You sounded great, no need to sweat offer whatever anything." Clinton always tries to be on the neutral side of things. I know he listens to mine and Christian's problems but rarely shares what the other person's emotions are.

I pinch the bridge of my nose before I answer. Second guessing whether or not my thoughts were valid. I wasn't sure I wanted to share that the biggest realization hit me after the band's studio session. Christian was my inspiration for my writing. He has always been my muse. I subconsciously wrote about him and would just change the pronouns for the songs to she/her.

I explained all of this to Clinton and he was understanding but I could tell he was tired of this game. I made sure to drop the whole conversation to save him from my annoyance.

+++

Friday

Christian had broke things off with me about three weeks ago. The first couple days I played it off as if I wasn't effected by it. In reality, it took a toll on my well being. As time went on, I felt myself going down a spiral. Christian was a huge part of me the past few months. I was missing him and used partying as a way to forget him. It kept getting worse and worse by each passing week. And that's how I found myself in the hospital.

I went out on a Friday night and came home with too much alcohol, too much cocaine, and too much clumsiness in my body. The night started off with Jack and I doing a line in my bathroom. We did multiple lines throughout the night and took shot after shot. I even remember taking an unknown pill at the club. When it was time to head home I was beyond intoxicated.

Saturday, 3 am

I walk through our front door loudly due to my drunken and drugged out state. I was getting a glass of iced water and spilled the ice all over the floor. My dumbass slipped on a piece of ice and smacked my head against the counter. I groaned in pain. The impact was loud enough to watch up whoever was in the house. There was footsteps rushing towards me.

"Mitch- oh my god. Clinton! Clinton! Hurry and call 9-1-1," Christian yelled as he scrambled to get a towel to apply pressure to my head. "What did you do? Oh my god."

"Oww, I'm feeling cold." I slurred while speaking as I went to touch my head trying to sit up. Christian wouldn't let me as he gently pushed me back down.

"No. Stay laying down for me. Keep looking at me. You're going to be okay." Christian kept repeating that line over and over.

I felt my eyes begin to close and I was shaking.

"Mitchel! Please open your eyes." I couldn't hear a word Christian said. All I saw was his lips moving and tears coming down his face.

Saturday, 4:15 am

Last night was a huge blur in my head and a pool of regret. My head has been pounding like satan himself was having a field day on it. According to the nurse, I had multiple drugs in my system which had caused me to overdose. Overdoing and cracking my head open was not on the agenda. I almost died, actually no I did die. And the person I'm worried about his my best friend, Christian.

Soon later, Clinton and him came rushing in my room. Both seen with faded tear stains on their cheeks. A huge wave of guilt washed over me. I was the cause of their tears and worried expressions on their face. Clinton walked over to my side first and grabbed my hand.

"You're an idiot, you know that? But I'm so glad you survived this but the recovery is going to be much worse. I'm going to go ring mum and dad. They need to know. I love you, Mitchel." Clinton was starting to choke up as he said the last line of his sentence. He walked off after I said I love you back.

I looked up at Christian with sad eyes. He was hurting and couldn't keep eye contact with me. His gaze was anywhere but my eyes. I took a deep breath before speaking first.

"Come here, please. I'm so sorry you had to find me like that. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking about anyone but myself and my hurting." Tears started to form in my eyes. I felt terrible about Christian being the one to find me on the floor dying. I never want him to hurt like that again.

Christian finally came over and sat by me. I reached my hand out weakly and quietly groaning at the pain shooting up my arm. Christian notices and grabs my hand. A sigh of relief relaxed my entire body. His touch calmed me down. It's like he has this healing aura to him.

"You'll be okay. Clinton and I won't let you out of our site for the next week or two. I'm sorry for completely ignoring you the past couple weeks. I thought it would benefit us but it only made us hurt more." Christian looked drained from the lack of sleep.

My bed was too small for him to lay down but I so badly wanted to take a nap with him. I wanted to be in his arms. To feel the comfort he brings me. His presence was enough for me at the moment. I was about to let him know how grateful I was but got cut off by Jordan walking in.