Just Before You Go

Tyler eyed me curiously as I perched in the chair pulled up to his bedside. I wasn’t sure how to properly prepare for a planned visit—so I’d come entirely unprepared. I shuffled uncomfortably in the chair, Tyler’s gaze ripping me to shreds.
“You’re back,” he said flatly.
I nodded, suddenly feeling particularly vulnerable. Like my feelings were showing or something. I had so many feelings.
“Why are you back?” he asked so callously that my reasons evaporated into the thick air.
I mumbled, “Why not?”
Good one.
He stifled a scowl, sinking into his pillows while he shoveled chocolate pudding into his mouth. I tried not to linger too long on the bandages wrapped tightly around each of his arms. If one thread came unbound in the slightest, I would be a goner. I was surprised I’d survived the massacre that was Blair Peterson unscathed. She’d been doused in blood and I hadn’t fainted; maybe I was growing.
“How are you?” I asked slowly, my brain at a standstill for any collective meaning.
He didn’t stifle the scowl this time.
“I don’t know what else to ask you,” I stated bluntly.
He rolled his eyes, “Not to sound hostile or anything, but why are you here, Aria?”
Tyler had never had a problem coming across hostile. I’d played victim to his hostility and I’d played audience to his frustrations flaring up at Blair. His false apology annoyed me, but given the circumstances, I let it slide.
“Because I was worried about you,” I shrugged. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Okay,” he repeated incredulously. “I’m basically a prisoner. People fly in and out of here every hour, on the hour to check on me. I feel like a fucking kid in timeout.”
I pursed my lips, “Maybe you need a timeout.”
His eyes narrowed, his forehead wrinkled.
“I was at Blair’s this morning,” I continued on. “She’s doing…better.”
Tyler nodded, his face relaxing ever so slightly at the news. He sighed, setting his pudding down onto the tray as he pushed it away from his bed. Every container was half-emptied, like he’d lost his appetite at every opportunity to starve off starvation.
“Good,” he grunted.
My eyes danced around the small room, as if the surrounding might somehow inspire a deep conversation. My nerves were shot.
“Tyler,” I choked. “Can I ask you something?”
“If I say no, will you not?”
I tried not to laugh, “No.”
“Then I guess so,” he groaned.
“Do you want to get better?”
He looked at me so strangely that I couldn’t place the thoughts racing behind his stony gaze.
“Get better?” he finally mimicked with uncertainty.
I nodded, “You’re sick, right?”
“I…Guess…”
“So, do you want to get better?” I pressed impatiently.
I gathered from his hesitation that it was either too early for this conversation or he was simply not interested in having it with me. He adjusted himself, straightening out his back as much as possible atop a hospital bed. He finally sighed.
“I don’t know,” he replied slowly. “It doesn’t feel like that’s in the cards for me.”
I frowned, “Can I make a suggestion?”
He raised a skeptical eyebrow, “Sure, Aria. You can make a suggestion.”
His voice was dripping in so much sarcasm that I nearly drowned. I reminded myself that we were not that same duo that once hunkered down in the back of a tour bus watching comedies. We were not the friends that exchanged our deepest thoughts and feelings. We weren’t really friends at all.
“You need to give Blair some space,” I stated. “And you need to take some space.”
He was appalled by my suggestion.
“Just hear me out,” I rushed.
“I’m listening.”
His alertness shocked me. I honestly hadn’t prepared for Tyler to be open to the appalling suggestion—I thought he’d rip me apart and berate me for my lack of understanding for their relationship. Instead, he looked like a lost puppy. His eyes searched mine for familiarity, a reassurance that my words were of honest origin and not malicious intent.
“I think you owe it to yourself to try and stand on your own,” I muddled through cautiously. “Maybe that’s part of your problem, you know? How long have you and Blair been friends?”
He shrugged, “Since we were babies.”
“That’s…a long time,” I smiled.
“It feels like forever,” he breathed, his eyes dancing along the ceiling tiles. “I don’t even know who I am if I’m not Tyler and Blair.”
My smile faded into a deep frown, “That’s what I’m saying.”
“I can’t abandon her,” he told me, his eyes flashing over to meet mine.
Despite my more sensitive judgement, I swallowed down my tact.
“What do you think killing yourself is doing, Tyler?”
My words stabbed a knife through his chest. He recoiled from the impact, the life in his eyes sinking away with haste. Life has a way of stripping reason from our minds; we convince ourselves of certain truths and then manipulate the world around us until it fits into that mold.
I should know, I meticulously imploded my relationship by doing just that. I’d let the Blair complex fester with such blistering vigilance that I hadn’t noticed anything to the contrary. I refused to see Jimmy’s friendship with her as anything but a connecting of the souls. It was, I guess…But it wasn’t the way I was convinced it should be. I’m not sure why I needed Jimmy and Blair to grow, surpassing Jimmy and I, but the way that I’d pressed and pushed…Maybe I was self-destructive.
Or maybe I was afraid.
I don’t think I was afraid of Jimmy falling in love with someone else. No. That’s trivial; people fall in and out of love every day. As I watched Tyler consider what I’d said, I’d realized that we weren’t much different. Our demons were of a different caliber but the way we handled them was very much the same. Tyler and I both insisted on grabbing at the ankles of those we loved the most and tearing them down to our level. We needed them to be as awful as we knew we were ourselves.
I knew then that I was a terrible fucking person.
Jimmy had started out our relationship in rocky waters. He’d lied, he’d danced around morality…But I’d been the one insistent on keeping it that way. Every time he’d try to improve our situation, I’d rip him back down. There had never been a pedestal for him—or for me.
It hit me like a ton of bricks. Like a piano falling from an apartment window.
At no point in my life had I ever been deserving of James Sullivan.
And at no point in his life had Tyler Brody been deserving of Blair Peterson.
My fascination with Tyler suddenly began to make sense to me. We were the same type of evil, disguising ourselves as something corruptible and weak. There was no weakness here. We were, to our very cores, despicable.
Blair and Jimmy both, though, were good. They each had their faults—they both skated that line of decency with precision. They’d both made terrible choices and acted from a place of malice to set examples for the ones that had hurt them. But they’d stood by their decisions. They’d taken responsibility for them. They’d sought to change their ways.
I was stuck in my ways.
I hated realizing that Tyler was a reflection. The existential crisis began to creep up.
“I don’t want to lose her,” Tyler finally spoke, snapping me from my self-hatred induced daze.
I tried my very best not to cry.
“Then don’t,” I told him firmly. “There’s still time to fix it, Tyler. There’s still time to be the person Blair needs…The person she deserves.”
It felt a lot like talking to a mirror. I was already running through a list of things I thought Jimmy should hear. I’d start with I’m sorry and move into why do you even love me when the time felt right.
He frowned, “I take advantage of her…and I know I do. It’s like I can’t fucking help it.”
I nodded, the sentiment striking my exposed nerve.
“She’s the best fucking person that I know,” Tyler continued, emotion welling up in his voice. “I know she did some fucked up shit to you…But that isn’t Blair. It isn’t. And I should have stepped in…Because if Blair intentionally hurt you, then she’s going through something. The real problem is that I don’t even know what that something is.”
He shook his head at himself.
“I’m so fucking self-centered that I don’t even understand Blair anymore,” he lamented in frustration. “Who is she when she isn’t taking care of me? I don’t want to be her child, Aria. I don’t want to pull her from her life. And that’s all I do…That’s all I’ve ever fucking done. The only reason she joined Haven was because of me. I don’t know if you know this, but Blair is petrified of crowds. Fucking petrified. And what did I convince her to do? The sick part is that I knew I could convince her. Fuck.”
I let Tyler set off on an angry tangent, projecting his inner demons onto the walls holding us dear. He was ashamed of the person he’d become; the person he’d only just realized he was. As his voice broke with humiliation, I let myself get worked up just a little. Everything—every single thing—he said was easily translated into my own behavior.
Replace Blair Peterson with James Sullivan and you basically had the diary of my life.
“I hate myself,” Tyler grunted finally. “I hate myself so fucking much.”
“I do too,” I sniffled. “Myself…Not you.”
His eyes found me again, “You don’t hate me? That’s…surprising.”
“Of course I don’t hate you,” I gasped. “Everything that happened…It’s my fault.”
“No it isn’t,” he shook his head. “I’m a big boy. I didn’t have the right to treat you the way I did…I don’t know why I have to fucking act like that.”
I tried to smile, “Can we call a truce?”
“A truce,” he repeated, his frustrations slowly dissolving.
I nodded, “I want to be friends. Maybe not now…But eventually. I care about you, Tyler. That hasn’t changed. I don’t want you to feel like Blair’s the only person in this world for you.”
He sighed, “I’m not sure there’s anyone in this world for me. That’s the problem, isn’t it?”
“Maybe…But I’d like to help you fix it. And maybe you can help me fix myself, too.”
He smirked, “You are all sorts of bat shit crazy.”
“I’m getting that,” I half-laughed. “And I don’t like it.”
His lips relieved me as they slipped into a smile, “I’m glad you came. I obviously need a Jiminy Cricket in my life.”
“Hey, as long as it helps,” I snickered.
“Tell me about Blair,” Tyler said more enthusiastically, finally turning his body to face me. “She’s really okay?”
His curiosity for his best friend restored my faith in him. I didn’t care if it was a temporary window into humanity, Tyler and I were peering through it together.
The view on the other side was nothing short of inspiring.

Notes

I'm sorry this was so delayed. I suck, I know.

I have the attention span of a god damn gnat.

TaS has temporarily stolen my attention...But I'm trying to rein it in!

Introspective Aria to lead the way back.

xx