I'm gonna love you, like I haven't lost you. I'm gonna hold you like you never said goodbye.

Life is unfair. To many people, in many unforgivable ways. Too the best people, in favor of the worst ones.

I'm nineteen, and I've been told a few too many times, that I have too many complex questions. That I shouldn't wonder why some live until they're a hundred and others die before they even hit thirty? Why useless it is to question how someone can look in someone else's face and lie so easily? That I'll never know why people only care when you're famous, and pretty.

Why is the world based this way? Why is everywhere like this?

"Hey love," mom smiles. She walks in and sits at the edge of my bed, phone in hand. "I'm going to have lunch with uncle Pete. Wanna come?"

"No thank you." I miss Ben. I-- pathetically and irrevocably miss everyone back home. It's strange. I am home. But this place hasn't felt like home since Caleb died. "I promised I'd call Ben." Mom's face flashes understandingly and smiles cutely anyway.

"Of course love. I bet you miss him tons."

"I do," I reply slowly and surprised by her patronizing tone.

"Okay, well I'll be back in a few hours-- shoot your cousin Mason is coming over to see you, be nice to him, yeah?"

"Why is he coming over?" I haven't seen Mason in a while. Since I moved to be precise.

"He wants to catch up, donut. Be courteous, he's always been very nice with you."

"Yes mam," I salute.

She rolls her eyes in a mom fashion and blows me a kiss, like she doesn't know I'm too old for that. She waves a final time and disappears the same way she came in.

I sigh and fall back, slapping my forehead with my hand.

Dad's at work, mom is out trying to have fun, Ben's a billion miles away with everyone, Caleb's dead, and I don't know what happened to Cheddar, (a turtle I had for quite sometime, who seems to have disappeared). I've got a few minuets until Mason arrives.

I can explore my neighborhood-- but it hasn't changed. Mrs. Frieda still lives at the end of the block. She still judges anyone who doesn't attend church every Sunday, writes off anyone with a tattoo or piercing as a delinquent.

Kids still come outside and play-- or they will until they get called for dinner or they grow older and discover the Internet.

Then you have people like me. The loners, they call us. The ones who are more comfortable alone and separate from the crowds-- but the truth is, we're just quietly observing everyone around us, silently. Watching as they make their next move and crumble as they forget: We're quiet, not blind.

And I think those around us would do well in remembering that.

****
On my tenth birthday Caleb gave me a charm braclet.

It was sliver, and had three charms.

A book, A 'P' with pink gems, and a small bar charm with 'loved' engraved in the middle.

It was beautiful and sparkly and I remember wearing it when ever I could.

One day, I was helping Harry clean out his home and I lost it in his attic. I cried for two hours and tore his house upside down. Harry, tried and bought me a new bracelet to replace the missing one, but it wasn't the same. It was a sweet gesture, one I made sure to thank him for, but nonetheless it wasn't the same.

I guess with Harry I lost a lot more than just my bracelet. A lot of things I know I won't get back.

At least not for a while.

****
Mason still hasn't shown up and I've tried to call Ben three times now. I've even reached out to Louis, but that was a lost cause. The only person I haven't tried-- who might know something-- is Eleanor and I hope she doesn't think I'm mad at her.

"Hello?" Eleanor chirps after three rings. She sounds cheery and tired.

"Did I wake you?"

"No, no. I wasn't sleeping, love. I forgot how distracting the Twilight series can be."

"Oh my God."

"Don't make fun," Eleanor mumbles, embarrassed. I'd be embarrass if I had let it slip that I was reading Twilight. "I'm at the exciting bit, where Bella tells Jacob to shove off because she clearly still loves Edward."

"El that's basically what the whole series is about."

"It's a lovely series," Eleanor defends. "Reminds me of you and how you once were. The New moon part that is. You know, where Bella is dead on her feet because she misses--"

"Okay," I cut her off. I'm both glad and humiliated that I'm not the only one who compares myself to Bella.

"Sorry," Eleanor rushes softly. "How are you, Pretzel? How's your mum? Dad? Lou told me you were having a bit of a situation with him?"

Of course Louis told her. They're that couple. It's too cute, I can't be angry. "Eh, it was more me being stupid. We fixed it though, it's okay now but it's become quite boring."

"Yeah? It's been boring here too. Poor Ben is terribly lonely without you. We've offered a guest room but he says he has to wait for Jesse to come back."

"Makes sense." My stomach drops. I forgot Jesse was coming home tomorrow. I don't know if he knows I'm home but I hope he won't think I'm avoiding him further. "Do you know where Ben is? Or Louis? I've been trying to reach them but their phones are off."

"Oh," Eleanor gasps. "Yeah, Louis took Ben to a photo shoot. They must be working or alseep. Try again in the next few hours."

"Okay..." Her tone makes it difficult for me to believe her. It's the one she's uses when she's lying, and she rarely lies which makes it all the more obvious. But before I can call her out on it the door bell dings. "I'll let you get back to your reading. My cousin's here. By El-bell."

"Wait!" She says before I can click. "We're good, right? You're not mad at me?" She finishes in a small voice that I don't like.

"Never was," I reply quickly. It's the truth.

"Okay, bye Pretzel."

"Bye El-bell." I don't like making people feel bad. I don't like being the reason for their discomfort. Especially not Eleanor's. She's always had a special place in my battered heart.

The line cuts and I'm scrabbling to let Mason in.

I haven't seen Mason in a year, I think. He's eight years older than me. He's recently gotten. engaged and he loves math. He wants to be a teacher one day, work up to being a professor.

I open the door and realize I have to look up.

Mason's tall. Like, I may need a ladder tall.

He smiles sweetly, dark eyes twinkling. "Presley!"

"Hi Mason, how are-- woah!" Mason's arms are tightly around me and my feet are currently off the floor.

Okay.

He sets me down and comes in.

We retreat back into the living room after offering a drink and snack. He sits right in front of me and beams. "How are you? Oh God, I haven't seen you since Caleb's funeral."

"Yeah," I look down and scratch my head. Caleb's funeral still churns my stomach. Dries my throat, almost. "I'm well, how are you? How's aunt Eva?"

"Good. Busy with the wedding." Mason's eyes glow and his smile gets bigger at the mention of his future nuptials. He's happy and it's a nice view.

"Congratulation's! M'sure Lindsey's over the moon."

"We both are," he nods. "It's been so long, Presley! How's Ben? You both still running the café?"

"Trying too, anyway. Ben's good. How's work?"

"Hard," he breathes. "Kid's are...they're not as tame as I remember."

"I'm sure. You always complained after every night you babysat me."

"You were a demon!" Mason laughs. He tilts his head back. "You caught the microwave on fire! Almost set the whole kitchen on fire!"

"That was once!" I try and defend myself.

"One time too many!" Mason's still laughing. Hands one his stomach now. "You were always so funny," he wipes the corner of his eyes and sighs. "How are you?"

People like to ask me twice. Once because it's how it goes and a second to see if I'll change my answer.

"I'm good," I nod. "I'm taking it day by day."

"And that's obviously shit. Look at you, all somber and hollow. Fucking Styles."

I swallow thick and part my lips.

This conversation just took a dramatic left. "It wasn't just Harry, Mason. I've been pretty shit to myself too."

"I know," he narrows his eyes. "I've heard. Read a few magazines. The fuck do you think you were doing drinking and spending all of your money like that? What the fuck was your intention?" Despite the curse words, all he sounds is curious. Like, I'm a three headed dog and he needs to know how I was created.

"I was-- I don't know, really. To me, at the time, it made complete sense. Everything was justified, I guess."

"And now? Is everything justified now?"

I shrug. "Everything is shit."

"I know," Mason says. "Read online Harry's engaged to some model?"

"Yeah," that alone has my stomach sinking and my head pounding. "Kind of the reason I'm here."

"You ran," Mason smiles.

"It's not really running if you're going back. I'm on an impromptu Holliday, I guess."

"No," Mason stresses, leaning forward. "You fucking ran because Harry still messes with your head."

"Harry is-- its not all his fault." But it's not my entire fault either.

"How can you still defend him? How does your head still allow that?" He looks dumbfounded. Disbelief washed over his features, eyes hardening. "What happened to you?"

"Life hasn't been very nice to me," even though I shrug, the words still sound pathetic. I feel pathetic.

"Doesn't mean you have to take it."

"Someone has too," it's a part of life that I've grown accustomed too. Rather it be me than someone else.

"I don't think you're here to talk about me. Tell me about how you've been? How's it like being engaged?"

Mason gives me a look over and sighs. I know he doesn't want to move on. He wants to keep discussing all of my failures and list all the reasons why it's Harry's fault I'm so fucked. But Harry's not here to defend himself and part of me feels I owe him something.

"I'm a bit terrified, if I'm being honest," he finally says, settling back and running his hands through his hair. "I never thought about marriage until Lindsey and now it's actually happening. It's crazy."

"It's good, Mason. Not every couple makes it and you both have. It's normal to be afraid. It's a big step."

Mason exhales loudly and chuckles nervously. "There's still no guarantee, you know? Like, Lindsey and I can crash and burn before the wedding. Ten years after the wedding. There's no telling what can happen." Part of me feels like Mason is about to have a melt down. Part of me also hopes he doesn't. I'm not stable enough for anyone to have any sort of breakdown.

"When's the wedding?"

"In a month," Mason replies shakily. Like he can't believe it.

"Are you okay?" I reach forward and place my hand over his. He looks--almost frightened. Younger and vulnerable. It's heart wrenching and I wish I knew how to fix it. Mason laughs, voice coming out half deranged. I don't think he realized how soon the wedding was approaching. I think it's hitting him now, in the worst possible place.

"I'm fine," he musters. "It's the idea that we won't last that's horrifying."

I nod and smile gently, squeezing his fingers. "I think a little love for just a while is better than none at all."

"I remember when I met Harry. We were at granddad's birthday," the memory makes me smile. It was so long ago and it still feels fresh and familiar. "You two were so happy and everyone could tell how much you fucking loved the kid. Your eyes practically shot hearts." I rolled my eyes, and prayed that Mason would stop talking about my relationship.

"What does that have to do with you and--"

"I always thought if you two could make it anyone could and you didn't." I think Mason is salting my wounds. Purposely trying to make it sting. "If you and Harry couldn't make it work how is anyone else supposed to? Is it possible, when all you've seen are failed attempts at it?"

My heart hurts. It aches and has grown heavy. I don't like it. I really don't.

"Harry and I not working out, doesn't mean you and Lindsey won't. We were nothing like you two are. You both are at good places, Mason. Harry and I weren't. We still aren't."

"It's-- I don't know. It's sad to see two people who are still ridiculously in love not be together, annoying everyone with their cliché relationship." Mason shrugs at the end and sighs.

I wish he knew how wrong he was. How our relationship is nothing like he described. It's nothing like he described-- especially if only one person was-- and is ridiculously in love.

"Harry's moved on, Mason."

"Harry's fucking miserable with his girlfriend. Trust me, Presley. I've seen pictures. There's a big difference to being happy and getting by."

"I don't know," I mumble.

"I think you do," Mason smiles smug and annoying. "Life would be so much easier if everyone would just say what they feel and not wait for things to happen. You have to make it happen."

"And sometimes you just have to let things go." That's something I'm trying t learn. Something I don't know if I can do, but I know I don't really have a choice in and it's completely unfair.

But no one ever said life was fair.

"So, I did something," Mason says, changing the subject. I frown, confused by the sudden turn. "While I was away at school, I gave one of my professors a few of your stories..."

"Mason, you didn't--,"

"Listen," he says slowly, holding up his hands. "They loved them. Completely adored them."

"Mas--"

"They gave them to a few of their contacts and an editor wants to meet you." I've officially stopped thinking. My mouth is hanging open and somewhere a baby has fallen. "In NewYork."

"I--you-- what?"

"They loved your stories, Presley. They want to meet you."

"In New York? Me? What the fuck?"

"Yes, you. New York." Mason smiles and pulls out a business card from his pocket. "Call them." He moves to hand me the small card when I fling myself on him, startling him, making us both roll onto the floor.

His smile fades away and turns into a painful grunt, as his hands fly up to his face trying to protect himself from my anger.

"Presley! Get--ow! Fuck!"

"I can't believe you did that!"

"What? Ow! Stop...don't hi--ow!"

My hands are flying everywhere. To his face. His sides. His hair. I'm trying to inflict as much damage as I can before I'm inevitably stopped.

"You had no right to do this!"

"I'm trying-- ow! Will you stop hitting me!" His left arm is free enough to move but only his left. The other is still busy pushing my limbs from his precious face. "Stop--"

Conveniently the door swings open and three voice are laughing together when there's a sudden gasp and my name being called out. I'd turn and acknowledge them, but I'm a tad preoccupied committing murder.

"Presley! What is going on?! Get off of Mason!" My dad's hands grip my biceps and they do their best to pull me off.

"No! Let me kill him!" I struggle trying to break free, but it's useless against my dads strong grip.

"Presley, enough!" My dad manages to get me completely off of him, as Ben?

"Ben?" I say between gasps of air.

"Hi babe," he holds his arms in front of him, trying to keep me back. "Surprise," he sings with jazz fingers.

"Um, why are you trying to kill your cousin, love?"

"Louis?"

Louis has a hand on Mason's arm. He grins at me and bops his head. "We thought we'd surprise you, but you ended up surprising us, trying to commit murder." My head whips to look at the offender as I begin to struggle, trying my damnedest to break free and kick Mason's dick off.

"Woah, Presley calm down," my dad wraps his arm around my waist, trying to keep my by his side.

"Let me hurt him!"

"Presley Jude Summers, stop it right now." It's my dad's authoritative voice. The 'I mean it' voice he uses when I'm in deep shit. It has enough power to have me stop my movements and drop my hands. "What is the matter with you?"

"He just ruined my life!"

"What?!" Mason shrieks. "I did something really good for you!"

"What happened?" Ben asks, stepping closer. He takes me from my dad's arms and wraps his around me. "What did he do?"

"He--"

"I showed my professor her writing," Mason cuts in. "I don't see why it's such a big deal, or why she just tried to kill me." He huffs.

"He showed them, Ben. You know I don't do that anymore." Ben sighs and cups the back of my head. "Ben, I can't do that without--"

"I know," he whispers hearing my struggle to finish my sentence. But he doesn't know. No one does. No one will ever know until they somehow become me. And I won't hold my breath until that happens.

Notes

It's a sad day, kittens. Almost too depressing that I'm not in the mood for chai...almost...