6. Layne

Chapter six

Layne

D o I enjoy being alone? Sure, as much as the next person but at the same time, I just want someone to be alone with me. Throughout my childhood, I often found myself alone, navigating the world and relying on my less-than-stellar skills to survive. Inside of me, the essence of the fifteen-year-old girl who died still lingers, despite my current age of twenty-two. I have trouble allowing others into my life. My best friend, Atlas, is the only person who I trust with anything.

Atlas crashed into my life when I was sixteen. He was dancing in the hallway of our high school and ran into me. Our souls recognized each other, calling out from the void to one another. We’ve been inseparable through every challenge and triumph over the years. I don’t think I would still be alive today if it wasn’t for him.

My eyes shoot open as the sour feeling in my stomach hits. I regret finishing that bottle of vodka last night. October 15th is always tough for me. The day I died. The Big Sky Daddy sent me back after three minutes. How do I show him my appreciation? By taking the day off, getting shit-faced, dancing to music, and then passing out in my bed. Alone.

Atlas tells me I need to find someone, to let someone bring me some happiness. What guy would want to deal with an emotionally damaged girlfriend? A girl who relives dying, daily. Who’s fucking depressed and struggles to put on a happy face for everyone. They would enjoy the novelty of having a twenty-two-year-old virgin for a split second. However, the appeal of it would vanish immediately once they fucked me. I’m a chaotic mix of darkness and brokenness.

You’re not worth it, Layne. That’s why your alone. Deep down you know you’d only drag them down.

I quickly sprint to the bathroom and vomit into the toilet. As I crouch in front of the porcelain god, I re-evaluate my most recent life decisions. Dial down the drinking. The self-loathing and wallowing, too. I get ready for the day while I’m in here. With a reach into the shower, I turned on the tap and let the water run, adjusting the temperature knob to a level slightly below scalding. Inside, I stand under the steady spray, feeling the warmth of the water against my skin.

After fifteen minutes, I get out and get dressed. I grab a bowl, the box of cereal, and the milk. Sitting on the couch, I’m anticipating the scary movie I’m about to watch while I eat the mundane bowl of cereal. After choosing a movie it plays in the background, the emotional pain slowly fades away, numbed by the screams of the characters. My phone chimes at some point, alerting me that I have a text.

Atlas: Do you think you can come in a little early? It’s super busy, and I need help with restocking .

I never turn down the chance to work extra hours. While I’m getting a fantastic deal with this apartment, the cost of living in the Bay Area is ridiculously high. I sent off a reply.

Layne: Yup. I’ll be there soon.

Popping onto the ride share app, I order a ride, and get ready to go, then I head downstairs to the pizza shop, to grab some pizza for Atlas and I. The door swings open and the aroma of delicious, greasy pizza makes my stomach growl, even though I just ate. Across the room, Roman, the owner’s son, makes eye contact with me. A huge grin plastered on his face as he waves me over.

I know Roman feels some type of way about me. Atlas says I should just fuck him and get the whole virginity thing taken care of. I could do worse, I suppose. The problem is, I feel nothing when I look at him. It’s like looking at a brother. Roman is cute, don’t get me wrong. He’s sweet and never lets me pay for all the pizza Atlas and I consume. But there is just no attraction.

Maybe I am broken.

As I lean against the counter, I flash him a half-assed smile. “Hey! I got called into work early. Can I get a pizza to go? For Atlas and I.” I ask, taking out my wallet.

Roman pushes the money I set on the counter back towards me. He shouts to the guys at the back, relaying our usual pizza order. He looks back at me and says, “Got any plans this weekend, chica?”

I shift back and forth, unable to find a comfortable position to stand in. I sense an imminent invitation coming from him and that makes my heartbeat rapidly rise. I quickly make up a lie. “Yeah, I’m just going to be hanging out with Atlas,” I say, forcing a smile as I try to mask my guilt from lying. He seems to buy it, as he packs up the pizza and some drinks.

“Well, if anything changes, I know a fun party happening this weekend. Maybe we could all go?” His eyes plead with mine. Not happening . Instead of just telling him that, I give him a small smile and nod my head. Sneakily placing the money in the tip jar when his back is turned, I snatch the pizza, and make my escape.

As I exit the shop, the ride I ordered pulls up and I climb in. The driver is not into small talk. Some pop music plays over their stereo, and it makes me cringe. The lyrics make my stomach churn, like an overdose of saccharine sweetness.

When the driver pulls up to the curb of the shop and I give them a half-assed “thanks” and climb out.

With a creak, the door to the shop swings open, releasing the faint smell of dusty books. Atlas holds it open as I walk in, pizza in hand. His eyes light up at the sight of food. “Thank fuck,” he mouths to me. I bring the pizza behind the counter and put it down. Boxes are everywhere. The room is utter chaos, with books and records scattered haphazardly on every surface,I take in a deep breath, realizing the shit show I just walked into.

“Bitch, you don’t know how happy I am to see you right now,” Atlas says, pulling me into his arms. I nod into his chest, his heart is beating faster than drum. He isn’t talking about me being able to come in early. Every year, he worries he won’t see me on October 16th and that I’ve ended up killing myself or drinking myself to death.

Not this year.

“I’m here.” I wrap my arms around his middle and squeeze.

We sit and eat the pizza while it’s still hot before we even attempt to tackle the mess of the shop, and I decide to tell Atlas about Roman. “Roman invited me, well, us to a party this weekend. If our plans don’t work out.” Atlas rolls his eyes and puts his slice down before answering.

“What plans?” He raises his eyebrow at me.

I laugh. “Oh, you know, the fake ones I had to make, so he didn’t ask me out. Again. ”

He shakes his head. I can feel his irritation creeping in. He has persistently begged me to go out with Roman for over a year now. I shift my eyes to the colossal mess around us and raise my eyebrows and change the subject. “So does Kris want everything re-organized or something?” I say, knowing that is probably what it is.

The owner, Kris, has us reorganize the shop at least once every three months to “keep it fresh”. It’s annoying, but, whatever, it’s money. After we finish cleaning up the pizza mess, it’s time to focus on the records. Those shouldn’t stay out of crates for long. They risk getting broken. I know I do not want to cover the cost of a broken, vintage record.

I can feel the tension coming off Atlas in waves, so I turn towards him and let him have it. “What’s your deal? I can feel when you’re mad at me. Best friend vibes, you know.”

“You didn’t call or text. Nothing. Fuck, Layne, you know the 15th is the one day I need to hear from you. You usually at least give me a courtesy text letting me know you’re okay. You’re typically drunk off your ass, but you at least text. I almost fucking called the cops so they could do a welfare check on you.” His eyes are moist with tears.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice filled with remorse. “I know I should have.”

Atlas is the only person I have, and I’m hurting him. When I fall into these depressive spirals, it’s hard to climb out of them. He has always been there to help pull me out. Atlas gathers some books and puts them back on the shelf. His back turned to me.

“If the roles were reversed, Layne, wouldn’t you do the same? Wouldn’t you fight for me? Get angry that I wasn’t fighting for myself to move on? I look at you and it fucking breaks my heart. I see the loneliness and the hurt.”

His words cut like the blade of one of my knives .

“You’re right,” I say. “I’ll try my best, I promise. I’m done with the pretending, Atlas. Honestly, I’m not okay. I’m screwed up inside, and I don’t know when it’ll start getting better. But I’ll try.”

Satisfied with my answer, Atlas turns and pulls me into his arms. He gives the best hugs. With his hands clutching my shoulders, he pulls me back to meet his eyes. “Don’t you dare try to die on me, understand? I will drag your ass back from wherever you end up.“ He cracks a smile and pulls me towards the bookcase.

We work the rest of the shift, with things back to normal between us. I order a ride a few minutes before my shift ends as Atlas is going to close up tonight. We usually rotate and he is taking tonight so he can see Sky tomorrow. “Speaking of Sky, how is he doing?” I ask, batting my eyelashes at him, he shrugs and I swear I see him blush.

“He’s good. Busy with all the promoting he’s got on his plate right now. But, he’s good. I hope things settle down soon so we can spend more time together.”

It makes me so happy that Atlas has found someone that he loves. Even though he refuses to say it, I know he loves Sky. It was months of flirting back and forth at shows, and lots of drinks being sent our way. Once Atlas finally gave in and gave Sky a chance, everything changed. Despite the limited time they spend together, I foresee a wedding happening within a year.

When I see them together, it makes me wonder if I will ever find someone who makes me that happy. My ride pulls up to the shop and I wave to Atlas, blowing him a kiss. “Bye, bitch! See you tomorrow.” He calls to me as I slide into the backseat of the ride and make my way to home. On the ride home, I order some Chinese food, as my stomach grumbles. I realize I’ve only eaten a bowl of cereal and three slices of pizza all day.

The car stops in front of the alley behind the building. On leaving the car, I quickly rush to unlock the door that leads to the upper-level stairwell. The app displays that the food is only a few minutes away from delivery, so I run up and unlock my door, leaving my stuff on the couch just as the app pings. When the delivery is pulls up, I take the steps down to to get it. Once I have the food in my possession, I take it back upstairs.

The aroma of the sinfully delicious food fills the apartment. Plopping down on the couch, I turn on the TV and scroll through channels until I find a scary movie. Takeout containers litter the coffee table as I eat. I’ve ordered enough food for a few day’s worth of meals. While I’m curled up on the couch, I’m hit with a sudden realization.

I am choosing to be alone. Atlas is right. I need to stop dwelling on things. Starting tomorrow .

I leave the couch and switch off the TV, turning up the stereo instead. The bottle of vodka currently sitting in the cabinet is calling out to me, enticing me to indulge in its intoxicating embrace, as I desperately long to escape from the burdens of reality for just one more night.

Inside my head, is a terrible place. The memories are sneaking out of my eyes and are rolling down my cheeks. Reaching into the cabinet for the bottle and a glass, I pour myself a shot, and then another. With the music blaring, I spin around, allowing the flood of notes to seep into every part of me.

Depression. It’s like drowning, but not being able to die. The water fills your lungs but somehow you can still breathe. The funny thing is I already know what dying feels like.