FicWad

(Hayley’s POV)



I pretended that it was the warm water that brought me to my senses but in all actuality it was Spencer’s phone call, and his bitter words.

I was hurting Brendon.

Damn, the idea wasn’t pleasant at all.

I knew I was a bit obtuse at times but… how could I not realize? I mean, I hurt. I hurt so badly leaving him that note, just writing it hurt… but I was emotionally lacking. I could never be what he wanted. The best I could do was provide him sexual comfort and that was something I’d done. I’d lost my virginity to him- given him all that I could give him… and yet I still felt it wasn’t enough. How could I possibly be enough?

Damn.

I clutched the towel tightly to my body as I grabbed my phone, listening to the voicemail once again. The last voicemail Brendon left me. “Hi, Hayley? Yeah, it’s Brendon. That guy… that you fucked and then left for dead. Oh, I bet you think I’m being dramatic. Well, maybe I am… but I figured I would just call – to make sure that you still don’t want me to call. It seems things are still the same so um, goodbye, and thanks so much for breaking my fucking heart.” The beep sounded viciously, as the voicemail ended. I’d listened to it a dozen times already, falling asleep to the angry words of heartbreak. I’d broken his heart. I hadn’t meant to.

Weirdly enough that still didn’t make it any better.

Maybe he finally forgot about me. Maybe he sobered up and forgot about me… He hadn’t called all day. I couldn’t deal with being the cause of his pain though. What could I do? I could at least check on him.

My finger hovered over Spencer’s number, or the number Spencer had called me from before but I didn’t press it. No, I wouldn’t. I would find him on my own.

The first place I could think of to check was the bar.

I’d slept all day, using the last of my money on this horrible motel room that smelled faintly of sex, and strongly of alcohol.

I just wanted to be closer to where I’d left Brendon. I just wanted to feel the pain that was due my way. I was missing classes and my father would probably kick my ass when I finally went back home but none of that mattered. All that mattered was the stabbing feeling in my chest, the searing pain that reminded me of what I’d done.

It wasn’t fair. Why’d he have to go and kiss me? Things were perfect before, when it was just voices over the phone… millions of miles away from each other. It was perfect before he made it personal, and personal was something that I couldn’t do. I wasn’t worthy of him, and I couldn’t let him see that.

That’s what it came down to.

I didn’t want to hurt in the end but I’d rather hurt, than have him hurt.

I pulled the black tights up my legs, letting them snap in place with a sickeningly tight slapping sound that signified they were as tight as could be. Good.

I looked in the mirror at the reflection that didn’t belong to me. The bright cherry red lipstick, the raccoon eyed style eyeliner- I couldn’t manage to put any more on- and the dark grey eye shadow. The tights put the outfit I’d bought the other day together. It was something Amy had picked out. It was what she called a ‘clubbing outfit’ and what I called a ‘working on the corner’ outfit. Perfect.

I would never be enough for Brendon and the sooner he saw that… the sooner the pain would fade.

I was wearing a tight black shirt that had strings which tied together from the bottom all the way to the top, my breasts shoved on display for all to see. The black skirt I wore was soft but very short, revealing too much. I didn’t even want to turn around and look; if I did I would never make it out of the motel room.

Was I really going to compromise my character to make Brendon feel better?

I had the choice of letting us both get hurt; or proving to him that I wasn’t worth hurting over. It wasn’t the most brilliant plan, but it was a plan I’d put together within twenty minutes… So it was just as worthless as I expected. It could work though. It could work very well.

Unless he likes whores.

The cold air hit my skin and goose bumps erupted before I’d reached my truck, my shaking hands holding tightly to the steering wheel once I’d crawled inside. My truck still smelled like Brendon, either that or I was just completely and hopelessly stuck on him. It was like being stuck on replay, one of your favorite songs wreaking havoc on your brain, again and again.

It was weird that I’d lost my virginity in my truck. Weird, but somehow beautiful. I loved this truck and I cared for Brendon. I knew I could even love him, if I let myself. I couldn’t let it get that far though… It already hurt too much. I couldn’t survive if it hurt any more.

The club wasn’t too far away but I was worried that this time they would check my ID since I wasn’t with Brendon.

Well, I had to try. I’d come this far after all.

The sound of my ridiculously high heels clicked through my mind with each step and I felt so fake. I expected someone to just stop me and shake their head, signifying how pathetic I looked as I tried to be something that I hoped I wasn’t.

Was I a whore?

No, of course not.

I just fucked my best friend and then left him.

Nothing Personal.

My own stupid wording came back to haunt me. I just didn’t want to be anything personal to him. I just wanted to disappear from his mind. I wanted him to be happy and I didn’t work out in a happiness equation. He had to see that; I did.

I clicked up to the front door and with one look at me the security guard allowed me entrance, flashing me a wide grin. Awkwardly, I walked past him… surprised at how good I was at faking confidence. Was I really pulling this look off? Damn, if it was for any other reason I might actually feel proud… but I didn’t.

The music was loud, as it was the night before. The club was crowded. I fit in with the group of girls more than I had before, even when Amy dressed me up. I blended in quite well as I pushed my way through the crowd. I needed to find the bar. I needed to see if Brendon was anywhere in sight.

“Hi Sexy.” The smooth voice found me sooner than I expected him to. “Could I buy you a drink?”

I turned around, facing Brendon in all of his glory… and all of my pretending just dropped away.

He was wearing a pair of loose blue jeans, which hung from his hips and the white shirt he wore was tight against his chest… and I- What was I doing here?

I got burned but you’re the real loser.

The music in the background burned my ears as I stared at Brendon, momentarily stunned. He seemed just as surprised as I was.

You’re good at hooking up; but you suck at love.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He finally asked once again, after a few agonizing moments.

Did he not realize it was me?

“Sure.” I choked out, throwing on a fake cheerful voice.

“Great, what can I get for you?” Brendon asked, and I noticed that his tone was suggestive; along with the wink he shot my way. He walked as if he’d already had a little too much to drink.

I’m paying for my sins, and it’s gonna rain for years and years.

The song changed and it was one I was familiar with, sadly enough. ‘Something More- By Secondhand Serenade’ was sad enough to suit my mood.

“Vodka please.” I muttered.

“Chaser?” Brendon asked.

“I don’t need one.”

Brendon grinned, “That’s my kind of girl.”

So, he did like whore Hayley as well.

At this point I was sure anything would do as far as Brendon was concerned. He was drunk off his ass. Where were his friends? He shouldn’t be here.

Two shots of vodka later and Brendon was about to fall off of the bar stool, as he leaned over towards me. “You look like a girl I used to know.”

“Is that right?” I asked, toying with my first shot of vodka. I’d yet to taste the bitter liquid though I wanted to. I still had to drive myself… somewhere, anywhere.

“She was a bitch.” Brendon blurted out.

“Oh.” I nodded, “Why’s that?”

“Well, she used a metaphorical knife to dig my heart out of my body and she’s run off with it. I’m not sure where it’s at anymore. Do you think if I fuck you she will care?”

“Yes, I think she will.” I responded, whispering the words.

“I think you’re wrong.”

“I’m right.”

“Have you done it?” Brendon asked, glancing at me warily. “Have you done it too?”

“I have.” I answered softly, knowing I’d hurt Brendon so badly. “But it’s never something that someone intends to do Brendon.”

“How do you know my name?” Brendon asked, quickly shaking his head. “I must of told you already. I’m a bit drunk but I think I can still stay up long enough to fuck. Just no cherry condoms, okay?”

“Okay.” I whispered, standing up.

Brendon stood as well, nearly falling over. I let him throw his arm around my shoulder, and then his hand worked its way to my lips as he roughly rubbed the red lipstick all around. “Hayley would never wear that color of lipstick. It’s horrible.” He muttered, leaning a good amount of his weight against me.

I struggled to the doorway, wondering what to do with him. I couldn’t just leave him. He was too drunk. Someone would take advantage of him.

We made it to my truck eventually and I was exhausted from hauling him through the parking lot. “Hayley drives a truck.” Brendon commented, crawling in to the seat. “I think that maybe she put my heart in the road and ran it over with her big truck.”

I listened to him verbally assault my name in any way that he possibly could but then we eventually made it to my motel room. It wasn’t anywhere near nice but it would do for the night. It was well worth the 30 dollars I’d spent, per night.

Well, there were no bugs at least… That I’d found so far.

“This place is shitty.” Brendon breathed out, struggling to open the truck door. It wasn’t jammed or anything. He was just really fucking drunk.

I ignored him, coming around to open the door for him. He fell out. I waited for him to stand up. “Pull yourself together.” I spit out, finding anger building. What if I hadn’t found him? What if someone else had found him, and taken advantage of him in some way? Men weren’t immune to becoming victims.

Brendon got off of the ground and followed me clumsily to my motel room, which I was extremely grateful was on the bottom floor. Things could’ve turned out pretty badly if he had to walk up a flight of stairs… and I wasn’t carrying his ass. He wasn’t that light and I wasn’t that strong.

It took me a second to get the motel room door to open and then Brendon literally fell in to the room, the sound of him thudding to the ground causing me to roll my eyes. “I can’t believe you got this fucking drunk.” I snapped, shutting the door behind us.

“Stop acting like my fucking girlfriend.” Brendon snapped in return, “I’m just here to fuck you, I think. Did you bring a condom? I don’t have one.”

“I don’t feel like having sex.” I replied, heading to the bathroom.

“Well, I do!” Brendon called out, and I heard him clumsily stand up. He knocked something over from the sounds of it. Seconds later he wandered in to the bathroom, where I was wiping the ridiculous amount of makeup from my face.

“Come on baby, let’s bang.” Brendon said, moving his hips.

I couldn’t help but chuckle, “I’m really not in the mood Brendon. Did you want to shower? Maybe we can wash some of that alcohol away.”

“I want to bang.” Brendon pouted, “I went out to bang and I want to bang. I haven’t quite banged enough girls to get over Hayley, but I’m getting close.”

“And just how many girls have you banged?” I asked, curiosity peaked in the worst way possible.

“Well…” Brendon frowned, “None yet, but I still have hope for tonight.”

I felt relief at the answer, and I knew it wasn’t fair but… I didn’t want Brendon having sex with random girls. I didn’t want Brendon having sex with anyone. It wasn’t fair but it was the truth. “Come on, let’s get you in the shower.” I said softly, extending my hand.

Brendon placed his hand in mine and looked at me with narrowed eyes, “Can you… can you kill me? I’ll pay you.”

What?

The breath left me for seconds, those seconds turning to minutes… “What?” I finally breathed out, as the air returned to my lungs.

“I’ll pay you. I just- I can give you my credit and debit cards; and checks and I’ll sign them all or if you want to take me to an ATM I’ll withdrawal as much as they will allow me, or I can just give you my pin.” Brendon rambled, leaning against the doorway for support, his hand squeezing mine.

“Why do you want to die?” I asked, horrified.

“I’m miserable. I never want to feel like this again.” Brendon replied. “No one deserves to feel like this. You don’t understand. Every time I think of her it hurts and every time it hurts I think of her because she was my best friend. I told her everything… I relied on her and… she left me. She just left me, like I meant nothing.” Brendon was crying. I never wanted to see him cry again. The sight was horrible, tugging on the strings to my heart- which was falling at a rapid speed.

“No.” I shook my head, getting as close to him as I could but he was sinking to the floor on his ass, his shaky legs having given up on him. I knelt beside him. “No one is worth dying for, especially not m- her.” I caught myself, correcting the mistake quickly.

I wasn’t Hayley tonight.

“You don’t know her like I do.” Brendon said softly. “She’s worth everything.” He laughed bitterly, “All of my friends think I’m crazy and maybe I am but I felt something with her and this… I don’t think I’ll get over this. Why did she do this to me?” He closed his eyes, as if in pain. “Oh god, is this how girls feel when guys fuck them and then never call? I’ll never do that again, never.” He promised.

“Was it the sex?” I asked, confused as to how I’d made such an impact.

Brendon laughed, “The sex was great. It was fucking fantastic but no- it was the phone calls. Every single phone call I made to her brought me a step closer to loving her. I guess I just didn’t get it until I was literally buried inside of her and then- then it was too late.”

“Listen to me Brendon-“ I held his head up and tried to get him to open his eyes. Eventually he did. His brown eyes widened innocently as he stared at me, questioningly. “She really cares for you but sometimes… some people can’t love, not the way other people do.” I nearly broke under his confused expression as he hung to my every word, “And she was broken, she couldn’t love you the way you loved her… but she wants you to be happy, she wants you to stop drinking and she wants you to want to live because you deserve to live happy- and alive. You’re dying in front of me and I- I can’t stand to see you like this.” Tears finally broke through, wetting my cheeks.

I couldn’t pretend anymore.

“Hayley?” Brendon whispered.

His eyes fell closed, the alcohol claiming it’s victim as he unceremoniously passed out in front of me.

“Yeah.” I whispered back, knowing he wouldn’t hear me. “I love you, in the only way I know how… and I don’t think that’s love at all.”





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(A/N: I feel like this lacks character development with the whole love thing but just wanted to interject, for my own sanity, that they were in love way back when the phone calls started and the story started after that… So it’s not so cut and dry! (I love that I just got to use that saying.))