Page 81 of Closer

“Don’t fucking start. I realise that you think the entire world revolves around you, because you’re an absolute child, but we were supposed to view Ash’s body today, and you thought it was a better idea just to go and get fucked up. Brie has been here all goddamn day, worried sick. She hasn’t even been in the country a full twenty-four hours and already you’re fucking shit up.”

“Jesus.” Levi scrubs a hand over his face. He is clumsy, and pathetic, and I want so badly to hurt him the way he’s hurt me, but I walk back to the counter and finish making tea, because if I don’t, I’ll probably stab him with his kitchen knives. “Do you hear yourself? Who died and made you so fucking self-righteous?” He laughs “Oh yeah, Ash died.Mybest friend, my brother. You didn’t give a fuck about him.”

“And you did? Goddamit, Levi, he came to visit you two weeks before he died, and you had your head buried so far up your arse you couldn’t even see there was something majorly wrong.”

“Did you? Did you stop for once this last damn week to let him rest?” he roars. “We all knew he was sick as a dog. Maybe we didn’t know he had AIDS, but you probably ran him into the fucking ground with your precious practice schedule.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Ali says. “We’re leaving. Brie, if you don’t feel safe here, you can come with us.”

I wrap my arms around myself and shiver. I don’t want to stay with him when he is like this, but I’m more afraid of the idiot swine hurting himself when left to his own devices.

“I’m fine,” I say with courage I don’t feel. “He won’t hurt me.”

Ali and Cooper exchange a look, and I’m suddenly not so certain of the truth in my words. “Well, you call us if you need to.”

“She doesn’t need a fucking babysitter. She’s a big girl. Aren’t you, AFG?” He flops down on the couch, swigging alcohol directly from the bottle as if he were a toddler sucking on juice. “You take care of everyone ... but yourself, that is.”

I ignore Levi and stalk through the lounge to see Cooper and Ali out. When the door closes behind them, he sighs. “Thank fuck the fun police are gone.”

“Non. Do not talk to me until you are sober.”

“Babe—”

“Don’t you fucking dare ‘babe’ me. We were worried sick about you. You disappear off the face of the earth, and come back twelve hours later high as a kite? Non. I will not talk to you tonight until the liquor and drugs are out of your system.”

“Brie ...” he whines. I have no sympathy. I storm into the bedroom and shut the door, locking it behind me. He pounds on the wood, and a few moments later, I hear him slump against it as I sit down heavily on the bed and cry. I don’t know if they are tears of frustration or heartbreak, all I know is this is not the man I travelled seventeen thousand kilometres for. I don’t even know this man, and I don’t want to.