six: cry for me

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Gregory flings his blanket to the side, sleep having completely slipped out his grasp for the night. You fucked up your first impression. Again. He hadn't meant to force his anger onto everyone in the room, but he'd been so caught off-guard---and pissed as hell---by Jeong-Soon's appearance that he'd let loose the floodgates of Hell. And the fact that the other guy, the one with the weed-whacker blonde hair, had actually recognised him had only served to boil his blood in his veins.

That was supposed to be a new beginning, you thick fuck.

Gregory digs out his phone, scrolling through his messages until he gets to one from two years ago. Two blue ticks. Missing profile picture. No reply. He supposes he'd been the one to fuck up first by leaving without actually telling Jeong-Soon where he was going, but it's annoying how Jeong-Soon hadn't even bothered to reciprocate his efforts to keep in contact.

Gregory rubs his temples. Two years ago, he couldn't see Jeong-Soon as anything but a rose-tinted angel sent down from heaven to pull his heart into a whirlwind. Now, he just finds the boy he'd once loved irritating. His height is irritating. His girlfriend is irritating. Heck, the fact that he's moved on is irritating. Gregory knows it's selfish---after all, he'd moved on too, even thought it hadn't been for particularly long---but he would never have if Jeong-Soon had just replied to his fucking text.

He has three new messages. Colin again. How many numbers does this asshole even have? Gregory blocks him without reading them. Again. The cycle's almost boring at this point---text, block, repeat. He supposes he should appreciate the monotony, though. After all, Colin's persistency is the only thing in his life not changing right now.

He grits his teeth. Stop it. There's literally nothing positive about Colin D'Armelio. Except his hands and his lips and the way he seemed to care so much---

He needs to stop thinking. He's not good at thinking, anyway. It's all action for him, because Gregory constantly craves the adrenaline rush.

His bedroom suddenly feels way too stuffy. Gregory slips his curtains aside, flinging his window open and letting the biting chill of the night sting his face. The street below is quiet. Empty. He wonders how badly he'd break his bones if he threw himself out of his second-floor window in a futile attempt to get away from his fucked-up life. He probably wouldn't even end up with a scratch.

The world shifts and sways underneath him, calling, calling, con brio. A streetlamp flickers, gold in the brilliant ebony of the night. The beginnings of a headache tear at his mind, and he tips forward, hands grabbing at the windowsill to keep himself from falling---in so many different ways. Gosh damn it. I'm fucking useless.

He can't stop thinking about Jeong-Soon. The other boy occupies every crevice of his mind, an unwanted visitor who refuses to leave or pay rent.

Gregory hates how he lets him stay.

No more, he reminds himself. He'll break your heart and you'll break his too, but he'll break yours first because he has a girlfriend now and for all you know, he's a straight boy who'd just been trying to experiment around back then. Or maybe he's bi. Pan. None of your business. He's not yours, anyway.

Something sitting on his desk catches his eye. Gregory tears himself away from the window, stumbling over to his table---only to recoil when he notices the accursed headphones, gleaming sapphire on his desk.

He'd dropped them back into the deepest corners of the closet. He's sure of that. But they're here, sitting on his table. Taunting him, teasing him, mocking him. They shine scherzando at the apex of his vision, his heart beating vivace in his chest as he searches for something to grab on to, something to hold, something real.

Reality never comes.

Instead, Gregory's stuck spinning in a hallucination, clawing at dreams he can't escape. He's left tumbling into memories he'd long tried to escape until he gives in to temptation, grabbing the headphones and shoving them on. Anything to snap out of his nightmares. Anything to find the real world again.

The headphones burn his ears like scorching coals, and he instantly recognises the song. It's Twice's Cry For Me, audibly searing through the device. Gregory tries to locate a source of the music, but they're connected to nothing---no wires, no phones, no apps. They're almost too hot, and he relishes the sting. It feels like a punishment, hot flames desperate to eat away at his soul until he drowns in the same pain he's put everyone around him in.

The ground disappears from beneath his feet. Gregory tips forward. Backwards. He doesn't know anymore. Fingers to lips. Hands to ears. Eyes closed, mouth shut, heart aflame. Pain, pain, pain. Crescendo.

"Gregory!" Balloon Tits' horrified scream cuts through the music, heaven's light past hell's fire. Her stick arms wrap around his waist, frantically yanking at him, and Gregory snaps back to his senses. He's halfway out of his open window, one hand gripping the sill, the other reaching for the stars.

Two steps from falling.

Balloon Tits looks terrified, blue eyes wide as marbles, arms still wrapped around his waist as if worried he'll leap free from her grasp and take another dive out of the window. He knows what she's thinking. He doesn't know why she'd decided to save him.

He pulls himself back into a standing position, roughly shoving Balloon Tits off him. The headphones are gone, vanished to wherever they'd come from, but their haunting tune still rings in his ears. Before Balloon Tits can open her whore mouth, Gregory's hand whips up to stop her.

"I'm fine," he says.

"But---"

"I was hot so I opened my window, okay? And then I tripped and nearly fell out," Gregory snaps. He sounds fucking stupid right now. He knows that. He's not lying, though---technically. While it hadn't exactly been a trip, he'd dismissed the air under his shoes as part of the hallucination he'd been dragged into. He hadn't intentionally tried to jump out. Of course not.

"Gregory---" Balloon Tits tries again.

"I wasn't trying to fucking kill myself, okay?" Gregory shouts. He swallows down the lump in his throat. "Get out of my room!"

She doesn't. "I don't think I should leave you alone right now."

His hand finds the edge of the table, grabbing onto it, holding it so tightly the wood cuts into his palm. "I need to be alone right now. You can tell my father if you want. I don't fucking care. Leave me alone. I'm not trying to kill myself. I fell." Gregory adds extra emphasis onto the word---as if that'll help.

Balloon Tits isn't listening. "I know this good counsellor who helped me a lot when I was younger. If it's alright with you---"

The table corner has started to hurt, and Gregory envisions it digging into his flesh with the vengeance of a thousand needles, pricking through the skin until blood touches wood. "It is not alright with me. Leave me alone, Balloon Tits." He pauses, searching for the final cruel words to send her away. "Dad and I were fine on our own. Stop interfering in our lives."

He doesn't miss the way Balloon Tits' overly large chest heaves shakily, and he takes unnecessary pleasure in the hurt shining from her eyes. "I know," she says, her voice a whisper. "I just thought I could be a part of them." She turns around. "How about a compromise? You leave your door open tonight, and I'll get out of your hair for now."

A part of Gregory wants to rebel---to yell in her face, push her out, and slam the door on her gigantic anime boobs, but he knows agreeing is easier. Exhaustion crashes over him, and he realises he's far too tired to argue further. He nods curtly, gratified when Balloon Tits returns the gesture before finally leaving.

Once she's gone, Gregory lets the wind seep out of him, knocking him to his knees on the carpeted floor. His hand throbs where the table had punctured it, but the skin remains unbroken. His mind is racing a mile a minute---Colin, Balloon Tits, Jeong-Soon.

I want you to cry, cry for me.

He does. He wants Jeong-Soon to cry for him, to regret him, to wish they'd never met. He wants Jeong-Soon to hate him, hate him with every fibre of his being.

And most of all, Gregory wants to hate him back.

remember the challenge from the previous chapter? here's the answer! the song are: Gold Rush by Taylor Swift and Tears of Gold by Faouzia. did anyone get them right? ;P

today's challenge: the slightly altered name (because copyright) of a Tiktok star is hidden in this chapter. let's see if anyone find the altered name and name the Tiktok star :D

con brio — with vigour

scherzando — playful, joking

vivace — fast, lively

this chapter was actually kinda painful to write, ngl. it was painful because of the content and also because we're over 11k words in and my main couple has interacted like once. my word count just really went aight imma head out. this is why i don't write romance books, they move so slowly lmao.

anyways, thank you all so much for all your support and ily guys so much. i know i say this every chapter but that's how much y'alls mean to me 💙❤

(ALSO THANK YOU FOR 1K ZHDHSJSHSJ IT'S ONLY BEEN LIKE A MONTH AND 6 CHAPTERS AND WE'RE ALREADY HERE y'alls are the reason why i don't have eyebags despite my horrible sleep schedule 🥺💅)

xoxo, Alex