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Chapter Thirty-Two

Ashton

A year ago today, I boarded a flight to Arkansas, took an Uber to the middle of nowhere and was stranded in a field with four psychos. Little did I know every single moment with Khaos was really a moment with Oliver. Now looking back, it all makes so much sense.

The unexplainable rage, the ruthlessness, it was all because he knew who I was, knew what I did to him.

I was the friend who broke her promise and left him there to get kidnapped.

While I had a cushy, normal life, he was bleeding and bruised.

But over the months I spent with him, I slowly wore him down, and he slowly let me despite his intentions.

A year ago today, was the beginning of an obsession for me. I fell hard for Khaos, for Oliver, and for whoever else he finds inside of himself. I just wish I could tell him.

The days are excruciatingly slow now that I’m jobless. The couch has officially welcomed me to become one with the cushions and I’ve accepted the invitation.

To pass the time, I decided to take up journaling.

My therapist has been urging me for a long while and I guess I’ve finally given in.

Though, my random thoughts have become more of a long-winded tale of my past. It’s like putting it on paper relieves the weight off my mind.

The burden now swallowed up by hungry keystrokes and blank pages.

“Get up.” Sam orders firmly as she slams the front door shut behind her.

I don’t even flinch, sinking lower into the couch hoping she can’t see me if I become it. The room has darkened with the sun’s decent, and I use it to my advantage.

Instead of repeating herself, she’s ripping my computer from my hands and - rather roughly – placing it on the coffee table.

“Hey!” I whine, forcing myself to sit up.

She uses my small movement to yank me to my feet. The room around me spins, the act of standing too quickly causing my eyes to blur. Not sure when the last time I moved even was. I’m positive I used the bathroom at some point today.

“Put some make-up on. We’re going out.”

“Nooooo.” I groan.

“Yes. No excuses.” She shoves me into the bathroom and watches as I plop onto the edge of the tub.

“Ugh,” she rolls her eyes. “Fine. I guess I’ll just have to do it.”

When I don’t respond, she starts pulling out all my products and fixing me up, then dragging me to my room to dress me. I stand there like a life-sized Barbie doll, rigid and helpless.

“There.” She smiles as she takes in her creation.

I look down, frowning at the dress she chose. There’s no way she would have ever known, but it’s the same dress I wore when I met Khaos in that barn. My heart feels like it starts to melt, turning into sticky black tar.

She doesn’t even acknowledge my disdain as she’s forcing my feet into my Converse and dragging me out the door .

The Uber ride is quiet as I silently pout about having to be so far away from my beloved couch. Sam furiously types away on her phone, ignoring my sour mood. I guess she’s had enough of the new me.

“Where are we?” I ask as we pull up alongside Maurice’s, a small underground bar.

“Come on, we’re going to get drunk.”

Suspiciousness wafts off of her like a potent perfume, choking me with the scent. She’s clearly up to something, causing this pout to turn into full blown anxiety. I’m not ready to be around people, not ready to party, but she knows that. So why are we here?

There’s a long line down the block waiting to get in, but Sam flashes her ID, and the bouncer lets us pass. A crowd is already congregating in the middle of the room before a lit stage and that anxiety I felt earlier only worsens.

“Sam.” I demand her attention as she orders us both a drink. “Sam!”

“Ash.” She counters, handing me a shot.

I look down at it debating if this will make me feel worse or better. Only, I don’t think I can feel any worse, so I down it before glaring at her.

“Why are we here?”

She sighs. “You need a night out. You need to get back to yourself and knowing you, music can do just that.”

“Who’s playing?”

She only smiles in response, dragging me closer to the crowd that’s started to gather near the stage. The lights dim and people start to cheer.

“Shit.” I cough, choking on my drink as a muscular blonde with scruff coating a chiseled jaw walks out on stage, sitting behind a drum set.

He winks in our direction, but I’m frozen .

“It’s going to be okay.” She whispers to me.

My heart thuds to the beat of Hypnos’ drums as the rest of the band walks out onto the stage. Each one of them unmasked, sharing faces never seen before.

Then comes Khaos.

Despite everything we’ve been through, the universe has always pushed us together. The chances of finding him again after being gone for so long are next to non-existent. Yet, here he is, alive and in my presence.

He’s the boy that stole my heart after disappearing only to return it when I thought I would never need it again.

I drink him in, begging him to be more than just a figment of my imagination. Something more than a mirage of grief. Not until the strum of Kokytos’ guitar sounds throughout the venue do I realize that this is real. I’m not dreaming.

The vibrations of Khaos’ voice penetrate my soul, settling a blanket of relief inside of me. For a while, I never thought I would hear it again, let alone in person. The melody he croons seeps inside of me only to expel in the form of tears.

I can’t explain the emotions seizing me, holding me prisoner, but Sam’s fingers threading through mine validate every single feeling.