twenty: the truth untold

When the first drops of rain start trickling over his curtain-covered windows, Gregory reaches for the box-cutter again.

"You need help."

Gregory keels over, one hand gripping the shattered heart in his chest, the other closing around the uncovered blade. He feels the barely-closed cut on his palm split again, blood staining the box-cutter scarlet.

"You need help."

Jeong-Soon's words ring in his head, over and over again, an untarnished symphony straight from tear-stained rose lips. Lips Gregory had kissed, once, twice, a million times, lips he'd kiss for the rest of eternity if he hadn't fucked it all up, if he hadn't been so fucking stupid---

"You need help."

"I don't!" Gregory screams, and no one hears him. No one except the butterflies, mere ghosts of the former flight-blessed lovers they had once been as they flutter around him in sad, dusty clumps, their wings ripped to shreds.

"I don't..." A sob escapes his throat, joining the unwanted familiarity of the tears trickling down his cheeks. "...need help. I don't. I don't. I don't." He doesn't know who he's trying to convince anymore---the shadow of whatever Jeong-Soon's left behind, the demons in his own head, himself. Himself and the fucked up brain floating around in his skull.

Fuck. Who am I kidding? Gregory attempts to drag his agony-wrecked body off the ground, the normally soothing pitter-patter of the rain on his window rattling in his head like a pinball in an arcade. His hand's still wrapped around the box-cutter, still leaking bright crimson over its tempting silver blade.

His palm's gone numb. He's pretty sure he's sliced into something important.

Gregory gives up, flopping back down on the ground as pain rolls up his spine. He watches his own blood spill around him like red wine, sees Jeong-Soon's terrified face in every glassy, vermillion facet. "I didn't mean it," he whispers. "I wouldn't have hurt you. I didn't want to hurt you." The box-cutter finally slips from his grasp, sprinkling crimson over the wood-panelled floor. He shuts his eyes, if only to block out the visage of Jeong-Soon's horrified eyes and open mouth, marked fear in his chestnut gaze. "I would have hurt anyone and everyone. But not you."

And he knows no one can hear him, doesn't know who he's talking to. Doesn't care, maybe. Gregory's tears mingle with his blood, a myriad of pain spread over the bedroom floor.

It's then that he notices the door is open.

"Your dad says he's sorry," Balloon Tits says, from where she's leaning against the door frame. She walks over, seeming to ignore the blood that stains her sock-padded feet. Gregory wants to get up, wants to push her out of his room, but something coiling deep in his gut tells him to stay put. Maybe it's the burn creeping over his lower back, the cramp seizing up his abused behind, the liquid agony trickling from his hands---but he listens.

He remains where he is, more dead than alive as Balloon Tits tucks her hands under his arms and hauls him into a sitting position with a strained grunt. One of her bright pink nails breaks off, bouncing off Gregory's thigh and landing on the ground. Balloon Tits doesn't even spare it a second glance.

"Your father says he's sorry," she repeats. She reaches for the bloody box-cutter and tucks it into the pocket of her jeans. "And I'm throwing this away."

"Go away," Gregory mumbles weakly, too exhausted to put up a proper fight. Balloon Tits ignores him, beginning the arduous task of dotting Hello Kitty plasters over his cut palms instead. Gregory scowls, but the thing in his stomach curls around his nerves and seizes them up, stopping him from protest.

Once his hands are completely coated in the obnoxious, pink-bowed, mouthless face of Hello Kitty, Balloon Tits settles into a crouch and turns her blue-eyed gaze to Gregory. "Why do you hate me so much?" she asks. "Am I doing something wrong?"

Gregory doesn't want to tell her---he knows he shouldn't, that he can't entrust his father's whore with the pain buried deep inside his heart. But he knows he owes her that much---for hitting her, for her stupid little Hello Kitty plasters and her wise confiscation of the blade. "I miss my mom," he admits. Another tear escapes, running down his nose before he can stop it. He's tired, so tired, and he's just kicked out the one good thing in his life.

"I understand." Balloon Tits slaps another pink plaster on his palm. "I miss mine too. She died of cancer as well, you know?" She tilts her head back, sapphire eyes glassy. "I was around your age. Seventeen. A bit younger." Gregory feels her pick his hand up gently, studying it, as if to make sure she's covered every inch with Hello Kitty. "So I understand. And I don't blame you."

Something tugs at Gregory's chest---something he's only ever felt when it comes to Jeong-Soon. Regret. His emotions bubble up in him, so strong they overwhelm him, so strong they steal his breath and leave him paralysed, so strong he's afraid they might spill from his mouth in a babble of indistinguishable nonsense.

"My dad remarried too." Balloon Tits lets go of Gregory's hand, and it falls limply onto his lap. "He worked the night shift. My stepmother used to lock me and my brother in our rooms instead of giving us dinner. Said we were too fat." Her fingers drift to her breasts, straining against the thin fabric of her tank top. "Every time I told her about how the kids at school bullied me for being flat everywhere, she would tell me they were right---that I wasn't a real woman if I didn't have breasts, and that I was never going to be one." She laughs. "Spending all that money was worth it, because I proved her wrong."

Guilt settles in the bottom of Gregory's stomach, churning his insides around uncomfortably.

"She never laid a hand on us, but I promised myself I'd never treat my children the way she did." Balloon Tits picks up Gregory's palm again, examines it for the hundredth time. Gregory's pretty sure the bleeding's already stopped, but he's too drained to push her away. "Then I met Arthur. And you. The moment you threw a book at my face and refused to eat dinner, I knew you were going to be a challenge. But I vowed to love you as if you were my own anyway, and I promised myself I'd be able to help you someday."

She takes a deep breath, ample chest heaving. "I'm not trying to replace your mom, Gregory. But I am trying to make sure that you grow up to be the best person you can be. Whether you like me or not is not for me to decide. When I married Arthur, fully knowing he had a kid, I took on the role of a mother for that kid. And I promise I will try my best to be a good mother to you. Just...give me a chance? Please?"

Gregory scans Balloon Tits' face, so honest, so earnest, so young. He sees nothing but sincerity in her bright blue eyes, and his heart clenches. His gaze shifts to the Hello Kitty plasters coating his hands, to the blood speckling Balloon Tits' jeans.

"Marilyn wouldn't hurt a fly."

"There you go again. Stop it."

Gregory can't stop thinking about Jeong-Soon, can't quell the words rising in his head---give her a chance, give her a chance, give her a chance. A broken record on repeat, on and on and on. And he hates it, hates it so much, teeth curling over his lip and digging into it so hard he's sure he's going to bleed---

"I'm sorry," he blurts, blood welling over his tongue. "I'm sorry." His face is hot, burning with embarrassment and guilt. Gregory can feel the tears staining his cheeks, and they don't subside when Balloon Tits pulls out a packet of tissues and offers it to him. He gingerly plucks it from her manicured hands, eyes firmly fixed on her index finger and its broken nail. "I'm sorry...Marilyn."

She pauses, arm still frozen in mid-air. When silence takes over, Gregory's almost afraid she might hit him just like his father had.

Marilyn lets out a sob.

"Thank you," she whispers tearfully, and Gregory notices the way her bright eyes glisten. "Thank you, Gregory."

A wave of awkwardness suddenly washes over Gregory, and he looks away, but not before noticing the way Marilyn's face lights up in a brilliant smile. Her grin reminds him of the boy he'd thrown out, and his heart sinks into his sneakers. Gregory tries to move, only to be halted by a sharp spike of pain arcing up his spine.

Concern flits across Marilyn's face, and he realises he must have openly grimaced. "Are you okay?" Marilyn asks.

"I just got railed, so no," Gregory mutters. The moment the words leave his mouth, he feels himself flush instantly.

To his surprise, Marilyn laughs. "At least it isn't your bruises acting up." Then her expression turns serious. "Are you and Jeong-Soon okay? I saw him run out just now. He looked...upset."

"Yeah, about that." Gregory's chest clenches again, a feeling he hates because he knows it's his own fault that the only good thing he's ever had is now hopelessly, irrevocably, completely fucked up. "I dumped him. Kind of." Because he said I needed help. Because he suggested therapy. Because I still love him like hell and I want to punch myself in the nuts for being so fucking stupid.

"Oh." Marilyn's eyes widen. To her credit, she recovers quickly, swallowing hard and trying to quell her fluttering palms. "Well, high school relationships are like that. They come and go, and they don't really last that---"

"I didn't want to dump him." Gregory doesn't know why he's talking so much, especially to Marilyn of all people, but there's something about the brightness in her face and the regret in his heart that combines together to make a deadly cocktail of undiluted truth. "He said I needed help. Therapy."

Marilyn pauses, then places her hand over Gregory's, her touch so motherly he has to bury his face in the tissue he's holding to stop from bawling. "Maybe he's right," she says softly.

The room is quiet for a long while, nothing to hear but the imperceptible flutter of butterfly wings, as hushed as the dust bunnies swirling through the gilded air. Gregory shuts his eyes, as if that'll shut the world out, as if that'll block him from the reality slowly materialising in front of him, as if that'll fix his head, his heart, his soul.

"I don't know how to fix this," he admits.

When he opens his eyes again, Marilyn's staring straight at him. "Do you want to?" she questions.

No, Gregory wants to say. We barely dated for a week. It's fine. It doesn't matter. I'm okay without him. He's too good for me anyway. But, deep down, he knows that's not the truth. No matter what his brain says, his heart knows.

And he's always been one to listen to his heart.

"Yeah." Then, in a reticent whisper, he mumbles, "I really like him." It's not the truth, not exactly. Because the truth is, Gregory is in love with Kang Jeong-Soon. Hopelessly, completely, and irrevocably.

"I've had him as a student for years, and he's an amazing kid." Marilyn smiles. "He's good for you."

I know. "I don't know how to fix things," Gregory repeats.

"I've got a suggestion. You're not going to like it." Marilyn eases herself off the floor, carefully dusting off her jeans. "Remember that counsellor I mentioned?"

Gregory furrows his eyebrows, and then it hits him. "No." Because he can't---can't go to therapy, can't sit in an armchair in front of a stranger, can't be crazy, crazy, crazy.

Marilyn sighs. "Gregory, you need help." Her voice is calm, but too much weight clings to her words.

"I don't." I do. "I'm fine." I'm not. "A counsellor won't help." Because I'm not crazy. "They'll just think I'm crazy."

"No one will think you're crazy." Marilyn straightens. "But it's your decision. I won't force you. I'll bring you some pancakes, okay? Or do you want to come down and eat with us? Your dad really didn't mean it, you know. He's really sorry." She bites her lip. "He shouldn't have hit you, but he does feel bad about it. He wants to apologise to you in person."

"I'll eat here." Gregory feels his stomach rumble, a reminder of how many days it's been since he last ate. He does his best to pull himself up, wincing at the pain scything through his body. Settling onto the bed is a hard task, made even more difficult by the Hello Kitty plasters all over his hands, but the mattress does ease his agony a little. "And it's fine. Dad shouldn't feel bad. I needed some sense slapped into me anyway."

Marilyn purses her lips doubtfully, but doesn't argue. It's almost as if she's treading on eggshells around him, scared to anger him again. Gregory feels guilty for that, too.

"Alright. I'll just...go get your breakfast, then."

Gregory should let her go, and he wants to, but his heart nags at him. It latches on to her suggestion and pulls at every nerve in his body, urging him to take it. Urging him to try to make things right, to attempt patching everything up with the best thing that's ever happened to him. Urging him to seize the day between the pads of his fingers, to take a leap of faith. Urging him to do, to try. To find the road to Jeong-Soon's heart again.

The answer to years of wondering. The lengthy reach of damning dreams.

"Wait, Marilyn," Gregory says, the word still unfamiliar on his tongue. "What's that counsellor like?"

in today's installation of Alex Cannot English: i failed English. kinda. i got 80, which I KNOW may not seem like a fail, but the highest mark in class was 90. therefore, as i am not the highest mark, or even CLOSE to the highest mark, i have declared myself a failure in English and will from now on be resorting to Chinese instead. 对不起, 这是最好的决定。

我在开玩笑。我最喜欢英文。

但是, 这是很大的失败...我很失望的。像这样小的东西这让我很难过。但是, 我的汉语也不好, 所以我不可以说。这真的很难 :,D 虽然我可以讲很多语言, 我不流利。

对不起哈哈哈

anygays, i have good news! AND THAT GOOD NEWS IS THAT WE MADE IT ONTO THE HOMEPAGE AGAIN BECAUSE WE'RE AWESOME 🤩 while TSP hasn't made it onto any NEW Wattpad lists, the Fresh Reads list has been put up on the homepage again...and TSP is STILL on it, which is extremely awesome because i got a bunch of new readers. hi 👋

unfortunately, with good news comes bad news. and that bad news is that your favourite attention seeker is in a very bad place mentally. again. and I KNOW what you're thinking---i'm in a bad place so often (seriously, i've been in The Bad Place at least three times since starting this book) that i must be FAKING it for sympathy and attention!

well. guess what. not faking it. just currently fully functional because i've learned to cope until i die lmao (new idea for a book: Tears On Bathroom Walls because that's the only time i ever get to cry haha) i am s t r u g g l i n g. depression is hard. and every second in Africa, a minute passes. whoop-de-doo.

but pls let's laugh about it because i find it easier to joke about everything instead of accepting that my mental health is as effed up as Gregory's

anygays bottom line is that i will not be able to reply to comments this week. maybe next week, if i can gather enough motivation to get out of bed for something other than class. because it's very hard to even get out of bed for class. because i haven't been sleeping well so i'm very tired all the time oof

(highkey f#ck Covid)

i'm out of self-isolation (truth), i'm looking cuter than ever (also truth), i'm doing well (lie), and i really appreciate all your support!!! (TRUTTTHHHH) Dad's back from the hospital, and he's doing quite well! he lost a lot of weight and is covered in bruises, sores, and injection marks, but he's getting stronger every day! his breathing's still not super good (because 75% of his lungs were damaged), but he's talking well and the first thing he asked me was, "So I heard BTS released a new song?" because he knows i like kpop and tries to keep up with what i like so he can talk to me about it :D (also the reason why he switched from being extremely homophobic to saying "boyfriend or girlfriend", i think he suspects i'm bi and probably decided it was better to ditch the homophobia rather than ditching the kid)

anygays, thank you so so much for all your love and support! i promise i will reply to comments soon (i try my best to reply to every comment), and i love y'alls so much! stay safe, and take care of yourselves <333

also, make sure to let me know what you thought of this chapter, because i need feedback :P

xoxo, Alex