Chapter One

  A series of bad ideas

“It’s over.” Her voice, short and matter of fact, cold and foreign . Her tone as if there were nothing more to discuss. As if three years was nothing to her. Nothing at all.

“Maddie-” 

“No. Don’t… don’t call me that. And, I don’t see the point in…” She lets out a long sigh and waves her arms, as if dismissing this whole thing. This whole conversation. “Discussing it. It's gone. It's done. It's over. Save your breath.” 

Since when did she become so cold? Did it happen over night? Was she always this cruel and Emmett just never noticed? Was everything a facade? Did he never truly know her? Was that possible?

It was hard to say. 

Maybe it didn't even matter anymore.

Emmett didn’t respond, he didn't even know what he'd say. If that is to say, she’d even let him get a word in. Even in his shocked heartbroken state he knew better. Better than to reason with the unreasonable.

And right now she was being unreasonable.

And with that, Madeline turned on her stiletto heels, her hot pink acrylics just as sharp as she ran them through her blonde hair. She doesn’t even look back, not even for a millisecond. 

The sound of her heels hitting the pavement and becoming fainter and fainter until… silence. 

Emmett felt his heartbeat becoming painfully loud and it was all so suddenly very real. Here he was, standing outside of what they used to call their spot. A relatively small coffee shop, simple and pale pink. It may have not been super exceptional but it was their spot. At least that’s what he thought.

He felt his right hand numbing under his mocha cold brew (extra chocolate drizzle), it was already a cool day. Condensation leaving his hand cold and wet, maybe it was a bad idea to get a cold drink on a cold day. And yes. Getting coffee at 5:50 p.m may not be the smartest idea but who needs sleep anyway?

His brain was short-circuiting. This was… maddening. He didn't know what to feel, what should he feel? Angry? Shocked? Sad?  Emmett wasn’t sure. 

He thought he was a good boyfriend. At least, he tried really really hard to be. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for relationships. Maybe he was doomed to be alone forever. Was that so bad? If he had to always pretend, was being alone so bad?

He shook his head. No. He didn’t always have to pretend. Not with Madeline. Maybe some others, a few of his previous girlfriends. But not her. She didn't expect him to be anymore than he was. And that was something new to him. That he could be enough.

Up until a month ago she was kind, spontaneous and cheery. She loved and reassured him, and he’d hope he'd done the same for her. Where did she go? That girl he’d given his all to these past few years? 

Did he miss something? 

Was he-

Bzzt.

His phone snapped him back to reality. He unlocked it to see a text from… Madeline?

‘BTW, no need to pick your stuff up. It was nothing important anyway- already donated it.’

His jaw went absolutely slack. 

She had… donated his shit?

Emmett knew it really couldn't have been much, maybe a few t-shirts, pants, and of course a toothbrush and razor. He assumed the last two just got tossed.

On one hand, she was kind enough to donate his shit instead of tossing it in the bin, on the other it was his shit. It belonged to him. Had, anyway. 

“Fucking…” His voice trailed, it was quiet as he rubbed his face. Fuck this. This is a load of shit. An utter load of horse shit. But he couldn't just stand here all day. No. He didn't need a loitering ticket on top of being dumped. 

Right now he needed to leave, to breathe. Because up until now, after being dumped, his lungs became tight and air became heavy. He needed to go. Somewhere. Nowhere. Anywhere. It didn't matter. Not right now.

So, with that, he tosses his drink in a nearby trash bin and he walks. He walks. And walks until he’s lost track of time. His legs begin to ache, but Emmett doesn’t notice.

He finds himself at a park. Small, with greenish grass with yellow plots here and there. There wasn’t much to it. A few swings, a slide, some monkey bars, and a few benches. He eased himself onto one of the benches, watching the wind push and pull the swings gently. 

Emmet let out a deep anguished breath. What did he do now? He loved her. Hell, he still loves her. Even after her ice cold demeanor toward him. Even though they seemed fine yesterday. Happy even? He thought they were happy. He thought she loved him too. What happened? It felt as though a train rammed him straight in the chest. The air was heavy again. Breathing didn't come naturally. Was it natural before? His eyes stung and his head began to throb in his skull. Everything felt so damn heavy. 

Inhale.

Exhale. And repeat. He couldn’t lose it. Not here. Not now. 

He made the horrid decision of unlocking his phone. His home screen added salt to his fresh wound. It was a photo he’d taken maybe a half a year ago. It was Madeline and Mufasa, his pittie. She was cuddling him and smiling wide. Her blonde hair long and silky and spilling over her shoulders. Mufasa is kissing her on the cheek. It's cute. She seemed so genuinely happy. He shook himself out of it. He couldn't just stare at this photo and long for what wasn't possible. 

He picked a random cute photo of Mufasa and made it his home screen. He couldn't mope every time he opened his phone. That wouldn't be productive at all.

Bzzt.

Another text. 

He inhales sharply. It couldn’t be..? 

He opens his phone and-

Andre From Work

‘Hey bud, having a lil get together if ya wanna come over. Gonna start at 9 so be there or be square.’

A little get together? Nothing Andre does is little. There’ll be alcohol and weed and that seemed like the perfect forget-your-woes concoction that he could use desperately after today. 

‘Be there.’

And send. His response was short, to the point, and left no room to be interrupted as a cry for help.

And with that, he walked home. 

It took about forty five minutes before he finally made it back to the safety of his one bedroom apartment in his somewhat shitty neighborhood. 

He unlocked his door and stepped in to be greeted by his favorite fat faced airhead, Mufasa. It was crazy to think he’d only had Mufasa a year. How could someone leave this oldman dumped behind a dumpster with what the Vet said was sixteen BB bullet wounds. The vet said he was about eight years old, give or take.

The blue pitt had gray and white sprinkled throughout his short bulky body. Emmett crouched to Mufasa’s level and patted his head. “Hey boy.” Mufasa rushed his owner with 81 pounds of pure love. And yes it was slobbery but it was all the fur therapy he needed. He got up already feeling (slightly) lighter.

Mufasa whined as his dad stroad into his room. “Sorry bud,” Emmett shot Mufasa an apologetic look and patted him. “Daddy’s heading out again soon, but don’t worry I’ll make it up to you. Promise.” Mufasa looked up at his dad with big dopey puppy-dog eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.” Mufasa nuzzles into Emmett’s palm, whimpering as he does it . Goddamn it.

“Fine, five minutes.” 

Happily, as if fully comprehending his owner, he trotted off and came back with a worn down rope toy. He nudged it towards Emmett and he let out a half laugh. “You're ridiculous.”

Five minutes slipped into ten, ten slipping into fifteen, and before he knew it Emmett was breathless as they played.

Though Emmett was certain that Mufasa was cheating more than a few times during tug-a-war, he had to admit this was relieving his stress. Who knew man’s best friend had just the thing to cure a broken heart?

Before he knew it, it was a little after 7pm. 

He took Mufasa outside to potty, then brought him in and fed him. 

Busy chowing down on a lovely mix of wet and dry food with assorted veggies, Emmett took the time to sneak off and get dressed. 

He was already wearing something nice because up until a few hours ago he thought life was normal. He thought he was going on a nice date with his very lovely long term girlfriend. But seeing as that wasn’t happening he saw no reason to risk a sloppy drunk spilling their rum and coke on his nice slacks.

So, he changed. He didn’t put too much thought into it. A loose black t-shirt with a printed logo from some local indie band he’d picked up after their show. Their music was good, but what sold him was the design. Heavily inspired by 90’s shoujo anime and sci-fi horror, it depicted an anime girl with intricately detailed robotic limbs that split off from her human limbs. It was pretty badass. He threw on some black jeans he’d probably thrifted a few months ago.

Nothing crazy or eye-catching. Functional and simple. 

Ideally, Emmett’s perfect night would include him being a nameless background character that no one talked to or acknowledged as he partook in free liquor and weed. That would be just perfect. He’d be able to temporarily forget the heartbreak and get as fucked up as his little heart desired.

He glanced down at his phone.

7:56 pm

He had some time to kill.

Being alone with his thoughts seemed like a death sentence right now. He wouldn't be able to bear even acknowledging the shit show that smacked him upside the head early. He couldn't think about her. 

So he wouldn’t.

He’d blast the television- something funny, and cuddle with Mufasa on the couch. Stroking Mufasa’s soft coat absent-mindedly as he attempted to ignore the hurt.

★

It didn’t take long to get to Andre’s house. About a thirteen minute walk speed walking. Andre’s house reminded him of the “American dream”  Emmett was told about in sophomore year literature. Large with a white picket fence. A green well-kept lawn, and a rock path leading to the door. 

His heart thudded in his chest. 

Fuck. His heart raced. Was this a bad idea? Probably.

There were approximately seven people on Andre’s perfect front lawn. Then and there Emmett could tell this wasn’t going to be a small get together. Some smoked, others laughed and drank. 

Damnit.

It’s too late to back down now.

He walked through the front door to be gobsmacked by the thick scent of various liquor and of course, weed. The music was loud and obnoxious. It was some Drake song that was somehow remixed into one of Taylor Swift’s older hits.

Bad idea.

He felt his gut twist.

There were so many people and they were so goddamn close, Emmett thought he might choke. 

Nauseating.

His eyes quickly scanned the crown of party-goers for Andre. No luck. 

Fuck it. He made his way to the kitchen, only gently bumping into three others on the way. Time to get fucked up.

There was an array of alcohol on the island. Vodka, Tequila, rum, wine, you name it. Beer and mixers. It truly was a choose-your-own alcoholic venture.

Immediately Emmett slammed probably about five shots worth of vodka in a red solo cup. Stung like a bitch. Surprised he didn't vomit up last year's lunch, he slapped some orange juice, sprite, and a ton more vodka into the cup. 

He sipped at it as he leaned against the island- closing his eyes briefly and sucking in a sharp breath. A wave of emotion washing over him. He wanted to throw up. 

It was just yesterday that he held her, the scent of her vanilla hazelnut condition had become a constant comfort to him. She had always run cold and he’d always run hot so it was only natural that they’d fit together so perfectly. Their legs tangled under the sheets and they laughed about nothing.

“Yo!”

Emmett was sucked back into reality by an all too familiar voice. One he didn't want to hear, not right now. 

The spitting image of his sister, Joseph.

Unlike his sister though, he was getting a tan going on his otherwise pale skin. The sides of his blonde hair shaven and the top of his head longer and slicked back neatly. He always seemed to be smiling, even now, as his blue eyes landed on Emmett he smiled warmly. He wore a gray muscle-tee and knee length khaki colored shorts. Joseph was the poster child for frat bros.

He smacked Emmett’s back a few times. “Hey man! Crazy seeing you here!” His tone was normal. As if nothing were different. Which probably meant Maddie hadn’t told her family. That made sense. The breakup was still so fresh that it wasn’t surprising that she’d hadn’t broken the news.

“Mhm.” Emmett took a swig of his solo cup. God. He really really didn’t want to deal with this right now.

“Where’s Maddie? I swear I haven’t talked to her all week!” He was just way too cheery. It was gonna make breaking the news that much worse. 

“Dunno.”

Emmett was practically hiding behind his cup as he spoke. He couldn’t look Joseph in the eyes.

“You… don’t know?” Joseph’s eyes seemed to be searching for an explanation hidden within Emmett’s expression with no luck. “Are you guys’ fighting?”

Something like that.

God this sucked. It stung. It felt way too real. Maybe because it was real. She had left him with no explanation. No discussion. No nothing. “Broken up.” Emmett prayed that Joseph hadn’t noticed the hoarse turn to his voice. At