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Sebastian:

I feel hollow and free. I’m not sure what to do with these feelings. Alina’s sleeping upstairs. I fucking can’t. So, I’m down in the garage, trying to find the fucking plague doctor mask.

I haven’t been in here for a long time, the contents of the garage being a relic to the life I was unhappily living before. Funny how you can get exactly what you asked for and have it turn out to be nothing like what you thought it would. I sigh, scratching my chin.

I miss my mom.

And I hate it.

We never reconciled. And I wish we had. I’d tried. But I wasn’t about to accept a half-assed relationship with her when that’s all I got in my youth. I needed more and she just refused to give it. I have to accept that I’ll never receive the love I craved from her or my father.

And now they’re both dead.

But the one person who did always love me, who still does , needs my help. And I won’t fucking fail her, like my parents failed me or like her father failed her. I will make sure that Alina gets to live, no matter the personal cost to myself. I’ll willingly die for her if it means that she gets to see the day she is no longer indebted to another human being. So, I start throwing boxes around in search of the mask, imagining her dressed as a foxy, little vixen for me. A big, bushy tail coming out of her perfect asshole, knowing I’ll be the one that gets to insert the plug. Grinning, I imagine doing just that in front of the fuckhead who abused her. I want Luke to see her submissive and perfect before me, while he watches me pleasure and service her in a way he never has.

I want him to see what it looks like when she fucks someone she actually loves and allows them into her body willingly . I can’t wait to throat fuck her slowly while he pays attention to every inch she takes of me as she cries tears of gratitude for the dick I feed her. Luke will regret abusing my fuck doll. I’ll make actual love to her as he dies at our feet, the worthless piece of shit that he is.

My heart aches .

I didn’t feel this way when my dad passed. I was fucked up and didn’t really understand all of my feelings at the time. I drank a lot when I got the news, which confused me. But I later determined I was more mourning the loss of my innocence at his hand than my actual father.

Believe me, I had been happy when they put that fucker in the ground.

But this feeling is almost splitting me in two. I know my mom was a victim as well. And that makes it hard to fully hate her. It’s easy to be angry, but my heart knows deep down that my anger is from feeling like I failed her. Something else I learned too late was never mine to carry. But I had. And it had pushed me into the arms of addiction. And now I feel that void yawning open, talking to me as I look around through the massive collection of shit I paid someone to move in here for me.

Outfits and instruments and old memorabilia. A dusty keyboard on its stand. Rows upon rows of leather everything . Dumb souvenirs from trips. A nasty box of panties leftover from random women who left their shit on my tour bus. I decide to throw this one out. This was my manager’s doing anyway, the weird bastard. Keith loved “keepsakes” and often talked of how he wished we could trade places, for just a day. If he only knew the fucked up person I was inside. He never would’ve wanted to switch with me. Being inside my brain would make anyone go mad. Hence the drug addiction and canceled tour.

I’ve spent over half an hour searching through the immense amount of shit I used to call my life. The police have long been gone, and I feel as dark as the sky outside the garage. As soon as they heard Lina and I drop Luke’s name, they didn’t give a fuck about my mom and her cause of death. I’m getting frustrated thinking about it all without being able to find what I’m looking for. I’m about to give up when I stub my fucking toe on the stupid box. Figures . I quickly check to make sure my toenails aren’t fucking chipped. I could have Alina fix them for me, but we have much more pressing matters to deal with right now than my nail polish.

I sigh, a flood of memories returning to me as I open the box and take the mask in. My fingers stray to it, petting the leather, the fastenings, the large ocular lenses. I pick it up to admire it in the light as something hits my leg and falls to my feet. I wiggle my toes as it gently settles on top them. I move the mask to see what it is, instantly wishing I hadn’t.

Because sitting on my fucking foot is a small packet of blow someone must’ve shoved away while I had been touring. If I had known about it, I would’ve fucking used it. My guess is Keith, or some goddamn roadie was hiding it from me for themselves and forgot about it. Assholes . It’s taunting the fuck out of me in my grief-stricken state.

My fingers grip the edges of the mask in my hands, shaking furiously. It’s been over a month since I’ve done anything hard, and honestly, I don’t really think it’ll solve anything, yet it’s still calling to me. I’m starting to pant the longer I stare at the baggy. I can’t even text Alina. I left my phone charging next to hers on the nightstand upstairs.

My armpits and upper lip break out into a cold sweat as I panic internally, battling with the decision to momentarily forget about watching my mom die or to continue to help the one person who has always fucking been there for me.

I swallow loud enough for the whole garage to hear and pray like hell that Lina wakes up and finds me before it’s too late.

Alina:

Bash isn’t in bed with me when I wake up.

I slept terribly, dreams of his dying mother haunting me behind my closed eyes. I look around his room, but it’s empty and so is the floor below it. I hope he’s not on the other side of the joint house. It still feels like a crime scene, even though everyone is gone now. Including the officers who laughed in our faces.

I cross my arms over my chest, exiting the house. The night is chilly as I walk outside and notice the lights on in the garage to my right. I walk towards the lifted door and see Bash standing stalk-still, his back to the entrance. I study him for a second, not sure what I’m walking in on, knowing he’s under the strain of immense grief. Grief that’s complicated and messy. But he doesn’t move. Except for the slight tremble of his body. I furrow my brow in concern.

“Bash?” I ask softly as he whimpers from inside the garage. “Baby, what’s wrong?” I start to walk towards him.

“ Get it away from me ,” he rasps as I close the space between us. I notice the plague doctor mask gripped tightly in his hands as he stares at his feet. When my eyes find his toes, I suck in a breath. Before I can even think, I’m grabbing the baggy and running to the sink in the corner of the room, upending the contents of it down the drain. They disappear with the runoff. I turn back to Bash who hasn’t moved. I can see the fight in his eyes, the turmoil he’s currently facing. How he’s most likely thinking of plan B and how he can obtain more drugs, even though I just got rid of them for him. “I found the mask. And the drugs were stashed inside with it. I’ve been standing here for at least an hour. I don’t know if there’s more and I’m terrified to look,” he admits in a tight voice. I walk forward, grab the mask and inspect it. I hand it back to him when it’s clean before checking the rest of the box, moving his mic over to make sure nothing is hiding in an unknown crevice.

“It’s ok, Bash. There’s nothing left in here,” I say quietly as he visibly deflates, and tears form in his eyes.

“I don’t know if I’m ecstatic or pissed at that answer,” he says honestly. I nod my head, understanding his current predicament.

“Why don’t we leave the garage?” I ask, gently touching his hand and making him jump slightly. “I got you,” I whisper.

His eyes are lost for a few minutes as he tries to gather himself. He finally looks at me, the emotions he’s feeling storming behind his wet gaze.

“Please get me the fuck out of here,” he begs. “I feel like I’m gonna lose it, Lina Girl.”

I grab the mask from his hands and place it in the box, closing and latching the lid before grabbing his hand. He doesn’t move when I try to pull him at first. I wait a few seconds before trying again. His feet begin to step with mine and soon, I’m walking him and the plague doctor mask out of the garage, both held safely in my fingers.

Sebastian:

My toes feel like ice as she leads me through my mother’s empty garden. A garden that’ll never be full again by her hands. It breaks me in a way I never saw coming. But I grip Alina’s fingers for strength as she squeezes me back.

I fucking love this woman.

She takes us to our spot, our shed. She quietly opens the door and directs me inside, undressing me completely down to my underwear before she kisses me gently and pushes me into the bed. She crawls in with me and before I know it, everything I’ve been trying to hold onto tears itself from my chest and throat and body in a chaotic, vicious way.

Alina never falters. She just simply holds me as my entire world falls apart. I bury myself into her chest and squeeze her tight, vowing to never let her go again.