20. Eli

Eli

Cannibal

O ne of the few field trips I was allowed to go on in school was to the zoo. It was winter then, too, and most animals were inside due to the cold.

I remember standing in this giant hallway where all the lions and tigers were. I felt so small, like at any point, one of them was going to break through the glass and eat me. But at the end of that hall, there was a tiger crying. I’m not kidding. It was so loud I swear it shook the damn walls. I’d asked a worker what was wrong with it. She’d said that it was a new addition and missed home.

I’ve never felt like I had one of those. Even though I do. I own a house for fuckssake, but the deeper meaning, that place of belonging, never came. No matter how I decorated it or made it a reflection of me, it stayed hollow. Maybe because I’m hollow inside—of all the places Phoenix could’ve taken me, he brought me to a facility that represents being somewhere you’re not meant to be.

None of these animals belong here. Do they feel hollow, too?

“Are you alright?” he asks, hands in the front pocket of his hoodie.

“Yeah.” I turn my attention to the penguins we’re looking at—the air inside is a bit frosty yet humid.

“It’s meant to be fun, you know. Look at how derpy they are.”

I get it. People like the wonder that comes from looking at them. Not every day do you see a penguin grooming its ass feathers. Phoenix shares the same mentality, but all I see is an echo of myself. Being moved from place to place, never belonging anywhere. I want to belong somewhere. He laughs at a penguin eating shit on this stupid fake ice slide. The sound makes my heart skip a beat. As corny as it sounds, it’s true. I’ve always loved Phoenix’s laugh.

He thinks I’m cured of all my issues, I’m sure. Miraculously, he’s managed to keep me safely tucked away in his apartment without incident. Not that I haven’t tried to sneak out or flat-out run . I don’t feel good. My guts have calmed down, thankfully, and I’m horny, but my head just won’t shut up. All these seemingly unimportant things trigger bigger things that I’ve either made it a point to forget or can’t help but remember.

And then there’s my aunt.

What am I going to do? It’s my fault she’s in my house, and she knows it. I refuse to go back while she’s infesting the place. And I certainly can’t stay here with Phoenix. Eventually, I’ll get worse. Those hideously dark moments he’s never seen will come out, and then what? Kiss and makeup? No amount of dick or snuggling or pancakes or zoo trips is going to fix what’s been destroyed inside me.

I’ll get my medicine again.

It’s only a matter of time.

“Hey,” he says softly, cupping my arm.

“How much more is there to see?” I ask.

He sighs. “Have you been just counting the minutes until we leave?”

I shrug. “Don’t feel the greatest,” I admit, which surprises me.

Nodding, his eyes softening, he slinks his hand down to mine and holds it. “We can go.”

“But you want to see the otters,” I say.

During the entire drive here, he wouldn’t shut up about them and how they held hands. There was some genuine excitement. “I can come back another time.”

I chew my cheek, watching the mild disappointment settle in his shoulders. “No, let’s go see them.” Offering him a super fake smile, hoping he won’t notice, I lead him away, but he keeps his feet rooted.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

His eyes lock on mine, an edge forming that wasn’t there before. “I can feel you, remember? You hate it here. You haven’t enjoyed a single second. I won’t make you stay to see animals you don’t care about. And don’t try to argue, Eli. I’m a big boy. I can handle not seeing otters. You…you’re more important, okay?”

I’m more important. Did I hear that correctly? “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He yanks me back to his chest, hugging me tight. “And I keenly remember being promised a blowie earlier.”

I huff, rolling my eyes, and bite his collarbone.

Tracy: You didn’t pay the electric bill? It’s winter, Elijah!

I also didn’t pay for the internet, but I guess that’s not shut off yet.

Phoenix glances over at me while I open up my bank app. It’s not like I’m not getting paid for older videos, but it’s not as much as I’m used to. And because I’ve had to buy medicine from everywhere and a stupid copay for my urgent care visit, I’ve got less in here than I’d like. Besides, Tracy has been using electricity as if she were personally charging the neighborhood. The bill has never been so much.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

Nothing is okay.

I keep digging a deeper hole for myself to rot in. How am I supposed to get out of it? I’m across the country with my ex, who can’t keep or help me. Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I rub my eyes while a headache blooms behind them. Hurting everywhere all the time is getting really fucking old. I don’t know how long I can do this act for Phoenix. Even if being with him again means more to me than I’ll ever admit.

“When is Kelly coming back again?” I ask, voice low.

“On Sunday.” It’s Friday now. Can I manage two more days? “What’s going on?”

“I need to…” Fuck I don’t know what. I need to get my head right—I need to make it shut up.

“You don’t have to leave, Eli. We can get like a hotel or something.”

“Can’t afford it,” I lie.

“I can.” He stares at the side of my head, chest rising and falling a little faster.

When I started this long trek back to him, this kind of insistence was all I wanted. I secretly craved it. I wanted him to fight for me, beg me to stay with him, and even though he’s not being as forceful as I’d like, he is trying. But it’s not what I want now.

Now, all I can think about is my stash of meds in my bedroom, tucked away in my closet next to my big fake dildo. My mouth is drying out at lightspeed because I have to stay miserable as long as I’m around Phoenix.

I have to remain in this constant pain.

“I’m leaving. It’s…I have to. My aunt is out of control, and I need her to go.”

He’s quiet. Why is he always fucking quiet ?

“And I don’t need a babysitter.”

Silence. His eyes are glued to the highway, his jaw tight, and his knuckles white.

“Besides, I know you go do Christmas stuff with your family,” I try again.

He jerks his head in what I’m assuming is a nod.

What the fuck does he want me to do? Honestly? Just live in a hotel with him indefinitely, keep suffering and pretending it’s all okay because I’m willing to fuck him and let him cuddle me? Bullshit. That’s not the reality here; we can’t stay in this illusion. Well, maybe he can, but I certainly can’t. I’m losing my damn mind.

This impending doom chomping at my heels never really goes away. It’s some hellish beast ready to swallow me whole if I don’t outrun it. And I’ve been trying to do that my whole life. How am I supposed to make money if I have no desire to make porn? Where am I going to live if I have no money and my aunt destroys my house? I don’t have friends, and I certainly can’t call up my old collaborators.

That’d be a nightmare.

It isn’t that I don’t want to be a functioning adult. I’ve always wanted that. And I’ve tried to talk myself into therapy, but I make excuses not to try it out. Frankly, I don’t want some stranger learning about my past. Don’t want them knowing what goes on inside my brain. If I don’t trust Phoenix with that, there’s no way I’d trust anyone else. I’ve hurt so many people because I don’t know what to do with myself or how to fix what’s broken.

Sometimes, I wonder if maybe I need like…support. That’s what they say, isn’t it?

The people who’ve hit rock bottom and somehow got back up to the surface? A support system. I peek at Phoenix. He’s fuming at the ears, silent as the grave, and it hurts knowing that it can’t be him. As high and mighty as he likes to pretend to be, he’s fucked up too. The shit with his brother has tainted his mind, made him incapable of seeing underneath the layers of armor I’ve wrapped myself in.

Two stubborn motherfuckers in love with each other is a recipe for carnage. Period. It’s better this way; it's better just to let it go.

I tried and failed to do the olive branch. Even though I took back what I said that day, I took back everything…

“It’s just MEDICINE!”

My hand leaves the steering wheel to grab his wrist. Fuck he won’t stop screaming at me, his rage so potent it feels like a living entity invading my skin.

“Phoenix, stop!” I shout back, ramming my elbow into his chest, scrambling to get control over the wheel.

“No! Because you’re a fucking lying piece of shit.” He successfully gets the bag of cocaine out of my pocket.

Panic fills my body as I lunge for it. He can’t take it. He can’t. The urge to admit it isn’t Adderall comes up to the back of my throat like chunky vomit, but I swallow it down. “It’s mine!” I scream, tears squirting free, our hands wrestling over the bag.

The car swerves violently, so I abandon him to get us back into the lane, but he opens the bag. “Wanna tell me again how this is just medicine? Do you want to lie to me some more? Because I swear to god I’ll snort this shit right now, and let's see what it does to me.”

“It’s a prescription!”

“Fuck you, Eli,” he snarls and stuffs his finger into it.

A stop sign is coming, and cars are driving down the street. My eyes flick from the road to his finger and back to the road. Sweat lines my forehead, my heart is in my throat, rattling my tonsils. He scoops the biggest bump onto his index finger and chokes on a sob. He’s going to do it.

“Phoenix, stop!” I hit the button for his window, abandon the wheel, foot slamming on the gas and snatch the bag from his hand.

Some powder spills on his lap while I chuck it out. “Eli!” he screams, and we fly forward.

I haven’t done cocaine since.

Which isn’t some grand accomplishment because I replaced it with other stuff. I glance at him, my eyes wet as I remember the worst day of my life. He still has a scar right above his hairline from the accident. I’m a trainwreck—a liar. And as much as I wish I could, I can’t give him forever. Coming back was probably the worst thing I could ever do to him.

Missing Phoenix is selfish, but this past year without him turned me into a mindless, ravenous monster. No one could replace him as hard as I tried to make that happen. No one feels like him, and no one feels me like he can.

Can he feel me right now?

Does he sense how badly I want to be someone else? Literally anyone, as long as it’s the person who can give Phoenix that happily ever after he wants more than anything.

I wish that person were me.

W e get back to his apartment, and it’s like walking into a funeral home.

There’s this dead energy enveloping both of us.

The death of our relationship, the death of any future, the death of hope, love, and sweet things. He chucks his keys on the counter, runs a hand through his hair, then mutters he’s taking a shower. I watch him disappear into the bathroom, and the door clicks shut.

So much of Kelly resides in this apartment, almost all-encompassing at first glance, but if you look hard enough, you’ll see Phoenix’s influence. It’s everywhere. He's had that pot over in the strainer since he first left his parents. That blanket on the couch that Helios is currently napping on is his. He’s got a weird way of organizing the silverware drawer. Spoons have to be on the left side.

I wander into his bedroom, taking in the made bed.

He likes thick comforters. It could be the middle of summer, and he’d sleep with it. One foot sticking out.

On his nightstand is a picture of his family. I pick it up, something like envy blossoming in my chest. It’s an old picture, Phoenix was probably fresh out of highschool. His hair was reaching his shoulders, the gauges in his ears were significantly smaller, and his thin arms lacked tattoos. God, he looks so happy here. Oliver is wedged to his side, both of them throwing up metal horns and damn near identical in appearance except for their eyes. No one has Phoenix’s eyes.

I set the picture down and glance at the suitcase I’ve been living out of.

It’d be easy to leave now while he’s in the shower, like some runaway bride. As much as I know it’s the right move, I find myself stripping instead. And then I’m in the bathroom, sliding back the shower curtain. I wrap my arms around him, pressing my cheek to the hair slathered on his back. He lets me hold him, the tension slowly leaving his body.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he whispers, cupping my hands on his stomach. “We can figure it out, sweetheart.”

My chest spasms. It’s a rare occasion when Phoenix calls me that. And I know it’s a persuasion tactic. Pet names mean you’re special. It means that you’re wanted. But he doesn’t want me, not really. He wants a romanticized version that doesn’t exist. I squeeze him tighter. We just aren’t those people. Slowly spinning in my arms, like I’ll spook or something, he faces me. His fingers card through my hair, eyes searching my face almost frantically.

“You have to let me in,” he rasps.

I kiss him instead.

He groans, indulging me for a few seconds, then pulls back. “Don’t do this.”

“You can’t fix me, Phoenix.”

“You aren’t even letting me try.”

I shake my head, fingers digging into his sides. “It’s not your job.”

He cups my cheek and presses his forehead to mine. “But I’d do it. I…I really think I could.”

“These past few days have been child’s play compared to what really happens.”

“Then show me.”

He’s desperate. That’s all this is.

I know that Phoenix has had a few relationships before me; they were wholly anti-climatic. As vain as it is, I doubt anyone can do what I do, at least to his body. That’s what he’s clinging to. Volcanic sex tends to do that to a person. What he doesn’t know is that while he gained an addiction to fantastic dick, I became obsessed with everything else.

I love how he hides behind his hair when he’s shy or nervous and rinses his toothbrush for a whole minute after using it. The way he sweet-talks his cat like Helios is a human. I idolize the way he treats his friends like they’re his blood. How deeply he cares about the people in his life. I got accustomed to knowing he’d kiss my eyelashes whenever I fell asleep and how his face would light up in the morning when our eyes met.

I loved those soft in-between moments. The ones people don’t think too much about. A brush of our fingers, a flirty wink, extra creamer in my coffee because he knows I secretly hate the taste of it. And when we were together for that year and a half, I’d never felt so safe despite my demons haunting the shadows.

And when we argued? Fuck, I loved it because I knew I mattered. He’d argue with me so passionately, so insistently, and I’d kiss him to shut him up.

Phoenix isn’t arguing with me now. He’s begging.

And I’ve never felt more like a piece of meat.

“Do you even remember what I said?” I blurt.

He backs up, shock riddling his face. “Of course I do.”

“Then you know I can’t show you.”

“Eli…”

“Just,” I breathe, “let me go.”

He frowns, his face contorting quickly to anger. “ You did this. You came back. You ruined everything I was trying to do to forget.”

“Because I missed you!” I blow up. It’s fucking ridiculous that I’ve been tiptoeing around it. “I missed you, fucker. And I didn’t know how to get to you. I never know how to get to you because we don’t work the same.”

“You had me. I was all in. I wasn’t going anywhere. You wouldn’t have had to miss me at all if you just stayed with me. And now you’re running again. Just fucking stay with me. ” He grabs my face and crushes his lips to mine.