End Up Like This
James
In one phone call, it was done. In four small words, I'd ended the best four years of my life. Charlie, I hate you.
Matt
I walked down the street with James scurrying along beside me. The rain was pelting down on the both of us, but I'd been stupid enough not to have an umbrella. I pulled the black beanie hat well over my red eyes, and felt the rain drops fall off the end of my nose. You have no fans now, Matt. It's over. Don't worry about petty tabloid photographers bugging you now. James turned to me suddenly, his face pale from the effort of staying out in the cold. 'Matt, is it okay to hate Charlie?'
I laughed nervously, not wanting to think about the subject. In the days after the split, I stayed locked up in my room, determined to keep control of myself. James left loads of messages on my phone, but I never listened to them because I knew that I'd lose it and hurt myself. I didn't want to go down that road again.
'Charlie didn't feel the same way as we did, James,' I sighed, watching the icy air swirling from my mouth like smoke after a fag. 'It wouldn't be right if we tried to get him to stay.'
James nodded and looked at me like an obedient puppy. 'I- I just feel bad, you know? Sure, we were going to the end of the road, but in my heart I knew we could do so much more. Busted was all I knew, Matt. What am I going to do now?'
'I don't know, James, I don't know,' I replied. 'But you've got to promise to help me.'
James stared at me, eyes bulging. He suddenly figured out what I had just said, and gripped my hand. He'd never done that before. We turned the corner together, not saying a word.
Charlie
'Fucking rain!' I muttered under my breath. The rain was extinguishing my cigarette as I walked further and further down the road. I stubbed it out on the ground, hanging my head.
Just then, I felt someone nudge me on the shoulder. 'Sorry mate,' I said, in a low voice. I wanted to remain as inconspicuous as possible, in case more angry teenies came to hurl stuff at me. I knew full well what that felt like, and as the thought entered my head, I clenched my fists and felt the blood boiling beneath my knuckles. I entered the real world again, and stared straight into the eyes of the brown eyed guy with the beanie hat in front of me. 'Matt,' I gasped under my breath.
'Hello, Charlie. Didn't think I'd see you here,' said James, his messy blonde hair plastered to his forehead. Matt glanced down at his feet.
'Yeah,' I said, nodding. Just look at yourselves. You've got nowhere to go. I've got Fightstar, and I can do anything.
Matt
I felt myself tense up majorly at the sight of Charlie. I wanted to hit him, but James thought of that before me, and held me back. I watched him talk to Charlie casually, but coldly. I stared at him through the beanie hat and glared accusingly into his complaicent eyes. My feet twitched, desperately wanting to move forward and kick him where he really deserved it. My God, I'd do anything just to get that bastard, that fucking monster, out of my sight.
How can you do it, James? How can you just stand there and talk to him, when he's destroyed you? Oh, you're an actor, you are. Say what you really feel, Matthew James Willis, and put him in his place.
I grimaced at him, and pushed James' weakling arm out of the way. Charlie glanced at me, surprised, but I knew all his tricks and games. I wasn't going to stand for it any longer. He ended it, he destroyed us, he ended the best thing that's ever happened. Show him what it feels like to be deserted.
So I did. I punched him aimlessly, and watched in satisfaction as the blood ran from his nose. Charlie swiped at his nose, and I could tell that he wanted to hit back. James was standing, piggy in the middle of us.
I snapped. I ran. I didn't look back.
James
'Matt!' I called after him. Matt had really lost it now. No one could really tell what was going on in his disturbed head. When he lashes out, he lashes out, whether it's at himself, or somebody else. I don't try and change things, normally. When he slit his wrists and lay, bleeding bloody bucketfuls on the floor, I didn't try and unlock the bathroom door. I hoped he'd figure it out.
'I'm sorry, Charlie, you saw what he did, he didn't mean it, honestly. Look, let me try and help you.'
Charlie looked at me with contempt for all that I said. 'I saw what he did. You know, this is the reason why I left. Because he was busy fucking it up all this time. Why do you stand up for him, James? Do you love him, or something?'
He turned down the road, holding his nose. I whispered out to him, 'Yes. Yes, Charlie, I do.'
Matt
I locked the door behind me, taking a deep breath and sliding onto the scrubbed white tiles. James had helped me scrub them ages ago, and yet nothing would get rid of all the blood. I scrambled up towards the cupboard, and looked for the razor blades. Toothpaste, no. Shaving stuff. No. Where the fuck is it?
I slammed the door angrily and slumped back down on the floor. I never cry, but I was close to it then.
I am hopeless.
James
I sat on the edge of the sofa, fidgeting with the buttons on my phone. I wanted to call Matt so badly, but I didn't know what to say. I mean, I couldn't text him, could I? What the hell would I say?
I dialled the number, and waited for an answer. It's me, Matt. Answer me. James.
Matt
The phone rang from somewhere inside my dirty-as-fuck flat. I clutched the door handle. The door wouldn't open. I panicked, my mind was racing. I cried out, somehow hoping that the person phoning me would hear my cries. I lied down by the bath, closing my eyes. I closed my eyes, hoping that if I opened them, this would all be a dream. I fell into a stupor and curled up in the corner.
James
Answer me, goddammit, Matt! Where can you be? I'm only ringing your fucking mobile, so answer. Wherever you are!
Matt
It was a sunny day. I was lying under a tree, on a patch of green somewhere. I looked all about me, and up at the deep blue, cloudless sky. It was perfect. If only James was here, and he was sitting right next to me now. Never mind about fucked up Charles.
Someone was running towards me. I looked up. The blonde hair, with the trademark black streak, which was now fading. The pools of blue for eyes, which seemed never ending. James.
Suddenly, James accelerated, and all of what happened next was a blur. I remembered one thing, though; he tilted his head in the opposite direction to mine, leaned forward, and kissed me.
James
I was going over there. There was no way that Matt wouldn't answer, unless something was drastically wrong. And the last time I left him, he was close to going.
I slid down the stairs, my heart pounding. I hadn't even got my shoe on properly. The car keys clanged in my hands. I jumped in the car, and shoved the ignition key in, turning it vigorously in the urgency. I listened out for the growl of the car engine, but it didn't come. I punched the dashboard in frustration, before resting with my head in my hands. I don't know how, but I knew that something had to be really wrong.
Fuck it, James! Fuck this car, fuck the world, fuck Matt. No wait. I didn't mean it like that!
Charlie
I drove down the road, looking to the left, and to the right. My guitar and amp were in the back, because I was on the way to a Fightstar sound check. I turned the radio up full blast, and screamed out the chorus of a Biffy Clyro song. I sighed, and a smile played on my lips. I love this life.
I was moshing really violently, when I heard the screech of a horn aimed at me. I looked up, and realised that I was heading straight for a car driving in the wrong lane. 'You fucking jerk!' I shouted, clenching my fist at him out of the window. That's when I realised.
I was heading straight for James.
James
I swerved around the car in front of me. I didn't care that I was in the wrong lane. The guy coming towards me stuck his head out of the window, and gave me the finger. I gave him the finger back. Even though we were both going at breakneck speed, I could still recognise that familiar, devilish smile from somewhere. 'Learn to drive, Charlie!' I shouted back, but I knew it was too late for him to even hear. Right now, I was concentrating on Matt.
I turned, forgetting to put on the indicator. I screeched to a halt at his block of flats, ran up the steps, and pressed the button for number 29. A crackling sound from the worn out speakers blasted out back at me. I was locked out, and no one would let me in.
I ran down the steps, and rammed my arm into the door. It wouldn't budge. I scolded myself for infliciting so much pain on myself, when I wasn't even certain that Matt was at home, or in trouble.
I tried again, but in vain. I walked back down to my car, hanging my head in defeat, and saw Matt, loitering on the balcony precariously. He was far away, but I could still see that he had blood on his hands.
Matt
I rocked back and forth on the edge of the balcony, with the razor blades in my hands. Every time I rocked forward, they sliced into my palms, and rivers of deep red blood flowed down my fingers and onto the floor. I looked into them every so often, but it wasn't enough. More blood. I need more blood. I need to endure more pain. I am weak. Need. More. Pain!
I saw someone in the doorway, and could hear his heavy breathing. I turned around, my eyes bloodshot and cold. 'You can't help me now,' I laughed.
'Matt, get down from there, and drop the blades!' James cried. I laughed at him. Silly boy. You can't turn me around just like that. I've endured this much, and I'm going to carry on. I am not weak.
'Matt, I mean it! You don't realise who you're hurting by doing this!'
'Who am I hurting, James? Who? Charlie? Ha, he's probably laughing at me right now.'
'Sod bloody Charlie! He's the one who's made you do this. N-n-no,' he said, turning from me. 'I was talking about me. Matt, you hurt me more than you hurt anybody! More than you hurt yourself. Do you even think about that? I believed in you right from the beginning. All those years ago, when Busted started, I believed that you could get over your habit. And you did, for two years. Two years! Matt, can't you just try to stop? When something doesn't go my way, I don't threaten to kill myself. That's really, really low, Matt.'
'Don't preach at me!' I shouted, feeling the tears run down my cheeks. I pushed the blades into my hands even harder now, but the tears blurred my sight.
I keeled over, and felt myself falling. I didn't remember if I crash landed, or fell asleep for the last time.