"You drove while drunk?! Oliver, you could have killed someone!"
Oliver stared at his father as he once again gave him one of his infamous 'you're a screw-up' speeches. He pretended to nod in agreement every once in a while but the truth was he was too hungover to comprehend what he was saying.
"If it wasn't for the chauffeur cleaning up the mess, you'd be in jail! This is serious! You're lucky to be alive!"
Oliver closed his eyes to restrict the amount of light searing through his pupils and remained still as to not upset his fragile stomach.
"I have to go to a party tonight but tomorrow I'm going to stay the night-"
"A party? What party?"
Oliver was in the mood for a party.
"It's your godfather's fiftieth birthday. He's having a small gathering at a hotel."
Oliver's godfather, Alexander Nillson, was Ed Scott's best friend. They had known each other since college and were like brothers. Alexander had founded his own publishing house and he was always so busy that Oliver was surprised he even had time for a party.
"What time?"
Ed was about to tell him before he quickly shut his mouth and looked at his son suspiciously. "You're not thinking of going are you?"
"Obviously I'm going. He's my godfather."
Ed sighed. "It's not a good idea for you to go. Not in your condition. You're going to be surrounded by alcohol and it's just not the best environment for you."
He wanted to go even more now that his father was against it.
"Fine. I won't go," He lied easily.
Ed smiled unknowingly. "It's going to be a hard journey to overcome your addictions but it'll be worth it in the end. And I promise you I'll be with you every step of the way."
Oliver pulled out his phone while his father continued to drone about recovery and with a few clicks he found out the time and location of Alexander's party. His godfather had the best taste in alcohol and Oliver's mouth was already salivating at the thought.
"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" Ed finally said, ending his speech.
You'll see me tonight.
"Yup. Tomorrow."
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Oliver entered the vast party venue with a bottle of bourbon in his hand. His godfather had gone all out for his party and the place was swarming with people. He recognised a few famous celebrities; best seller authors, actors that acted in book adaptations and a few famous but random connections Alexander must have had. Most importantly he recognised his father at the far end of the hall and he made sure to avoid him so as to not get spotted.
His hand reflexively reached out to grab a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and he downed it in seconds. He didn't know whether to mingle with the crowd or just find a corner to drink in while he observed from afar. He decided to do neither and instead go to the bathroom to do a line.
He barged rudely past some big names to enter the bathroom and stationed himself in front of the marble counter between two sinks. In front of him was a large, daunting mirror that judged him.
He emptied a bag of coke onto the black tile and rolled up a note before bending his back and snorting the line in one go. As his head shot up he noticed a man washing his hands beside him. He hadn't noticed him before. The man grimaced at Oliver before shaking his hands and walking away, but not before tutting condescendingly at him. Oliver flipped him off but he didn't know if he saw him or not.
His face came into the mirror's view. His reflection seemed thinner and pale and had a grey tinge to his face, in contrast with his bloodshot eyes. It must have been a trick mirror because there was no way the mighty Oliver Scott looked like that.
He continued to stare at the alien-like impostor in front of him. It looked wrong.
A familiar face popped into view from behind him and froze. His face twisted in the mirror as he recognised the man behind him.
"Charlie?"
Charlie's face dropped. "Oliver? Why are you here?"
"Alexander is my godfather. Why are you here?"
"He's my publisher. I'm... I'm ghost-writing a book."
Oliver turned around to face him. "A book? Since when?"
"Doesn't matter."
"I want to know."
"It doesn't matter," Charlie repeated firmly.
Oliver leaned back against the sink and inspected him. He was wearing a stunning suede suit and his hair was shaved short again. He looked as breathtaking as ever.
"I... I missed you."
Charlie sighed in exasperation. "Okay."
"Nora and I broke up," He continued, hoping that would make Charlie meet his eyes. "Well, she broke up with me but it was bound to happen anyway. I shouldn't have married her knowing I wanted to be with someone else."
"Stop-"
"I can't stop thinking about you."
"Don't say that-"
Oliver reached up to stroke his cheek. "I want to be with you."
Charlie shut his eyes tightly but he didn't move. Oliver leaned closer to him, so close in fact that he could feel Charlie's shaky breath.
"Don't you want this too?" He continued.
He placed a soft kiss on Charlie's lips. Charlie remained still, his lips like a statue's against Oliver's. Oliver curled his hand around the back of his neck and kissed him again. Charlie's mouth slowly began to move in sync with his as he quickened his pace. Was he hallucinating? Was Charlie really there kissing him back? Oliver stopped to take a look around them before quickly pushing Charlie into a bathroom stall.
Just as Oliver was about to unbuckle Charlie's belt, he stopped him.
"I don't know what I'm doing."
Oliver tried to kiss him again but Charlie pushed him off and left the stall.
"What? What's wrong?" Oliver groaned, hungry to kiss him.
"I can't do this."
"Why not?"
"I don't want to be with you."
"But I broke up with Nora!"
"She broke up with you! And that doesn't lessen the pain of you choosing her. What we had is over."
Oliver stomped his foot indignantly. "But you want this too!"
"Oliver, what I want is for you to get better. You're drunk and your eyes are bright red. You're an addict. And I want you to find peace. But I can't be your peace. I don't want to be your peace. You made it clear that I'm second best and I don't want to be with you while you're still pining for someone else. I'm done."
Oliver could feel his blood boil. "Why does everyone think I have a problem!? WHY?! I don't! I drink but that's normal and... you... you're so selfish! You're denying yourself happiness."
Charlie scoffed. "You don't make me happy."
"Yes, I do!"
"You don't! You're just a spoilt little white boy who's angry at the world. I got no time for you."
Oliver slammed his fist against the sink's counter. "That's not what I am!"
"You need help."
"No, I don't!"
"Oliver-"
"NO, I DON'T!" Oliver roared, aiming to punch the wall. Instead, however, his fist slammed against the mirror and it shattered instantly, raining around his bleeding hand.
Oliver..." Charlie exhaled, covering his mouth. His eyes moved to Oliver's hand.
Following in suit, Oliver turned to look at his hand which was now covered in cuts and blood. The scary thing was he didn't even feel it.
Charlie quickly left the bathroom. Oliver called after him. He followed him outside where he began to roar his name, attracting the attention of many party-goers.
"And now for the speeches!" Someone said over a microphone on the stage.
Microphone. He needed the microphone. He staggered to the stage which he had to climb on to. He could hear his father's voice, objecting and disapproving. Because Ed Scott loved to disapprove of his son. He probably hated his son.
Oliver could feel a lot of burning eyes on him and a lot of people shouted at him as he grabbed the microphone from Alexander but suddenly the world was mute. Voices were reduced to nothing but a background buzz.
"Charlie," He slurred into the microphone. "Stop."
Oliver's breath was ragged and quick and his clothes were covered with blood. He could hear the rhythmic sound of it dripping on the floor leaving a red puddle. His head was about to explode.
He looked into the crowd and could make out a shocked and frightened Charlie Kingsley. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why wasn't Charlie happy? Before he could say anything further, he felt buff arms grab onto him and drag him off stage. He could have gone out with a bang, kicking and shouting and cursing at security. But, instead, his body went limp as he thought of the look on Charlie's face. And Alexander's face. And his father's face. And every single partygoer's face. He was a monster and everyone was horrified.
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College is hard. I'm sorry I can't update as quick anymore. From now on I think my updates will be once a fortnight. I'm super sorry.
How is everyone? I miss comments and dms and people posting on my message board. I miss my internet friends :(( so plz let me know you're here.
Love,
-hexed