Even though Maggie had stood in the doorway, the room had seemed to remain just as dark. Her rocky breathing had given away just how angry she was with the sight. Rightfully so, I had figured. Her pitiful boyfriend, or whatever I had been at the time, was holding a gun to his head. How else was she supposed to react? If anything, Maggie had been quite calm. Something that been quite rare of her.
"Pull the trigger." her eyes glistened through the darkness. "You hold a gun to your head in our apartment, and have the audacity to let me see it? Pull it, coward."
Coward. Coward. Coward.
It had been some time since I'd heard a word that epitomized me so well. I had constantly ran from the world, on a never-ending marathon of escapism. I had torn others down, having only made myself feel as though I were a better person, above them. None of that was true. I had been hopeless, inconsiderate of the people who had loved me through all of my bullshit, all of my lies and self-loathing. I had only been hiding from reality, running from it. I, by definition, had been a coward.
The next thing I had known, Maggie sat herself down in front of me. Not angry, not trembling, nor had she tried to do anything. She only sat down front of me, sitting calmly as I continued to hold the gun against my head. What had she been trying to do? Was this her way of stopping me from doing what I had been so intent on doing? Had I even been ready to pull, or had this just been my SOS?
As calm as a stone, Maggie slowly grabbed the barrel of the gun with her left hand, and began to pull it towards herself. Pressing the barrel gun against the bottom of her chin, Maggie's eyes drilled into mine, as though she had been able to see diamonds buried deep below. I lifted my finger with a quickness I hadn't even known existed with in myself - my palm still attached to the grip.
"Kill me and then kill yourself." Maggie leaned forward, unafraid of the gun pressing into her. Her lips had only rested inches from mine and her eyes had now been covered by her thick black hair. "We can both die and move on to the next world together, and then we can go see Kylie again. Doesn't that sound great? C'mon. Shoot."
"No." I had lacked the strength to pull the gun away. "You deserve better than that, than me."
"Oh? What could be better than the both of us leaving this awful world together and seeing the one girl we both love like crazy?" Maggie had bitten my lip before pulling away to speak again. "Do it, babe. Let's end it here and now. Just pull the trigger, and we won't have to deal with this anymore. None of it. Ever again."
I had dropped the gun. Had there been a reason for all of this? Had there been a reason for me to be alive? Why had I dropped the gun so willingly? Why hadn't I been able to fulfill the request of the woman I had claimed to love? Had I been a coward, like she had said? Had I been so much of a coward that I was unable to simply pull the trigger on myself?
Just as the sound of the gun hitting the floor made it to my ears, Maggie had been on her way to wrapping her arms around me. It had been entirely unexpected, the woman who at one point had been so angry, so fed up that she had told me to pull the trigger was now holding me tighter than anyone had in what felt like years.
Had she cared?
"Just let go." Maggie whispered. "Don't hold it back anymore."
"I'm-"
"You aren't fine." Maggie had interrupted. "It's okay to cry, Cyrus. I'm staying right here."
As hard as I held myself back, I had cracked wide open. I had tried so hard to be empty, feeling-less, as a way to stay and appear tough for not only myself, but for Maggie. I wasn't allowed to be the broken one, the hopeless one, or the sad one. I had to be the man for her, I had to be tough for her. I hadn't been allowed to break down, at least not in front of her.
Yet, at that moment, I had done all of those things. I had collapsed on myself in every sense; mentally, physically and emotionally, all in her arms. How could have this been not real? How could I have questioned this? Why had she always been there when I needed her most? Why had I been the piece of shit that had cheated on her without a second thought just hours earlier? I had been so horrible to her, yet there she had been - absorbing all of my burdens, my scars, and even my tears
"I love you." Maggie ever so silently whispered into my ear, her voice ever so hesitantly shaking. "Please don't do that again...I can't lose anyone else. Especially not you, Aiden."
Had this pair of arms been home? Had I finally found a place, a world where I would I be able to let my guard down and feel human? Could I sleep with my eyes closed, walk around without expecting a knife in my back? Was Maggie the answer to my emptiness, to the hollow void that were my heart and feelings? Had Maggie created something I hadn't felt in so long?
Had Maggie rekindled the life in my veins?
"I'll be here...As long as you want me in your life, I will be here." she soothed, as though speaking to a child who had just awoken from a nightmare. "I'm right here, so just talk only if you want to, babe."
"I..." I silenced myself. Had it been okay to open myself up, to take off the shell that had been protecting me for so long? "I'm hopeless."
"Wh-"
"I feel like there's this pit of darkness inside of me, like a hole that can't be filled." I interrupted. "This sinking feeling has been here ever since she died, and it constantly feels like nothing I or anyone does will be enough to rid me of it. You've been here for me, always. You've never complained, never said a word about how faulty I am, or how much of a piece of shit I am. I feel horrible, that I can't give you the same things back, that I can't be the guy you deserve or dream of.
I'm a fuckup. A huge one."
The brick I had called a heart, while only for a moment, had lightened. Had gushing like a dumped girl been effective in some way? My world had come crashing down on that day that had felt so long ago, and I likely hadn't given myself the chance to cope properly with the events that had caused me to so severely unfold. Had this been my chance to cope - or rather, had this been our chance to cope?
"The first few weeks after Kylie died, I felt so alone. It felt like I was drowning in this darkness that nobody could understand. I was being pulled down from my shoulders, my lungs felt like they were being crushed. It was suffocating..." I trailed off. "But I couldn't go to anyone. I was scared of how they would see me, like how you're probably looking at me right now. Judgmentally. Judging how I was the one who killed her, how I shouldn't have been with her. All I ever do is fuck good things up for other people."
With a finger and a thumb on either side of my jaw, Maggie slowly pushed my face up, until we met at eye level. She had been crying herself, yet smiling so widely at the same time. Why? Why had I never seen this expression before? What had it meant to her? What had it meant towards me? Maggie, who had still been supporting my head with her fingers, led inwards at that moment. As her lips made contact with my own, a near thunderous strike swiftly traveled through my spine.
What was that expression? Why had it pained me?
As though her lips had told a message, Maggie began to climb on top of me, and finally landed as she began to straddle my lap. It hadn't been sexual at all. Rather, it had been near magical between us - the air, the soft breeze of the air conditioner - something had been special. Maggie rested her chin on my shoulder, breathing softly. A relieved sigh, of sorts.
"I never complained, or called you those things because you aren't any of them. You aren't faulty, or a piece a shit. I love you, with problems or not, dumbass." Maggie softly murmured into my ear. "You're more than just a piece of meat, Aiden. I don't care if you can't return the same things I give you, I don't care if we aren't rich or whatever, but what I do care about is you and how you feel. I need more of this from you; I mean it, fuck your pride and fuck your ego. I want honesty and openness between us, Aiden. That's all I really want."
__
Feeling as though someone had inserted a weight into my head, I opened my eyes to see both Maggie and I still on the floor. With her head on my right arm, the faintness of her breathing had been soft and relaxed, reflective of the slight smile that had rested on her face. Even though her makeup had been smeared, and now dried up, there had been something astonishing about her at that moment. What had it been?
What had been different? Had it been Maggie or myself, or had it been the both of us? Between my own thoughts, I had grabbed a somewhat mangled cigarette from the bruised pack and lit it - watching as the exhaled smoke rocketed itself towards the roof and exploded like a dropped bomb. The smoke had essentially gone nowhere, no matter how hard it tried, or how high it went.
Had that been the answer? Had I finally figured out that I had been heading nowhere? Had I finally figured out that no matter how high I had gotten on something, that I couldn't fully run away from everything all the time? Had it been okay to feel like trash, like the scum underneath my shoes? Why had Maggie forgiven me for all of the terrible things I had done?
I turned my head, and saw the gun. That had been where it all came flooding back, everything from the previous night.
"Cyrus, what are you looking at?" I heard Maggie ask, stretching her tired body.
"Nothing...just spacing out, I guess." I responded. "Don't you have work today?"
Maggie pushed herself up. "I think it would be better if I took the day off. We can go to the store and pick up some food. You know, we can just spend the day together at home. Me and you."
"If it's because of yesterday, then you don't have to worry about that." I pulled her back down onto her back before rolling myself on top of her. "I had a lot of things on my mind. You, me, and just my entire life up until today. You helped me sort out a lot of shit."
"We don't need to talk about that anymore, if you don't want to." Maggie wrapped her legs around my waist, grinning. "All I want is to talk more, like we did last night."
Looking into my own eyes, Maggie veered away - laughing as much as she had appeared to be cringing. "I bet I look like shit. Let me go take a shower--"
"Yeeahhh..." A laugh came from the doorway. "She definitely needs it, my man. Must've been a wiiiicked party."
With my head darting up, I had met with the sight of near psychopathic-looking blonde man, his hair partially covering one eye. His grin, his bulging, wide eyes - this man hadn't been there to rob the house, or kill someone. While he had appeared crazy, he clearly hadn't been stupid. There had been no noise made, not even the tapping of his shoes had made noise. He was there for something, or rather, someone.
"Cyrus, was it? My boss has a little word to speak with you." He spoke, looking at Maggie. "Let your girl here take a shower. We'll be in and out of here, if you don't do anything stupid. Like, ya' know, grab that gun on the floor."
Skeptically, I had let go of Maggie and stood, brushing my hair back as I looked at him. Looking at Maggie, I used my head to point to the bathroom door. At that moment, I had no clue what was about to happen. Had I been about to meet death, contrary to what he had said? Had he been truthful, and some mystery man had wanted to speak with me?
Within moments, this man led me through the hallway and into the living room, where a man with long blonde-brown hair draped over the sides of his face had sat on the couch. Dressed in what appeared to be a very expensive suit, the man hadn't appeared to be type to hide his wealth - a wealth that had seemingly come along with power.
"Aiden, eh? Interesting name." he turned his head as he set his pistol down on the table, possibly as a sign of wanting peace. "Come sit. I have some important things to talk about with you."
Lighting another cigarette, I approached the couch and sat down near the this mysterious man. He followed my eyes, smiling as he picked up the gun and released the clip, letting it fall to the floor without interruption. Within that small movement, he had shown that there was no cause for concern. Yet, my mind had only been concerned on why they had broken in, and why they had wanted to talk to me.
"You remind me of one of those skittish street cats, or D-Bag over there, just smarter." he pulled out his own cigarette as he pointed the blonde guy by the door. "My name is Crest, Cyrus. I'm the head of Below Zero. Let's just say that you've caught my eye recently, yeah?"
My eyes had quite clearly widened with surprise. Below Zero had been a name that was spreading like wildfire in and through underground networks - a name that both distributors and dealers alike had been listening to. Only recently had they began to make noise on the actual streets, using violence and money to have their way with people who opposed them. I had only been a small-time dealer, and had never planned or been anything bigger than such. What had he wanted with me?
"Yeah? Why is that?" I peeked out of the corner of my eye to see where the other guy had went, only to see him digging through the fridge. "What does Below Zero want with me? I'm just a small-timer, earning money for rent."
"How do I explain this without giving a speech?" he chuckled at himself. "You see, we've already pretty much taken this place over. Except the places you sell. People are actually refusing to buy from us at better prices. You've really got yourself some dedicated buyers. That is what impresses me, more than anything. You know how to reel people in and keep them on the hook."
I could feel my eyes sharpen, just a touch, or at least noticeably enough for him to see. "Yeah? Well, I'm moving soon. This place will be all yours. Have fun with this shithole."
"I know that, and a lot more, Cyrus. Like I said, I've had my eyes on you for a bit now, and this just decided it for me." he responded, setting down a picture. "That is a house near Dakota Springs, but probably the largest and most expensive in the area. It's been bought, and is now owned by you under your name. No payments or strings, that is my word, if it means anything to you. There's a car key there for the car parked outside, too. Again, no strings. Sell it if you want to."
Setting a pair of keys down on the table, he itched his beard and then looked at me once again. I knew there had to have been a catch - nothing in this world had come free, and never would. This man, Crest, had wanted something in return. If it hadn't been right then, it would have been at some point in the future. As leery as I had been in quite some time, I took a drag of the cigarette that rested in between my fingers, as though the nicotine would have helped me think.
"We are getting more and more powerful, richer and richer. We currently have our own distributors, sellers, financial experts, and even some hackers to get rid of any government wanting to get a peek. Thing is, we are going through a nice little cleaning process, and had a nice position open right where you are moving. Cyrus, Below Zero wants you. You are what we need, and you are what we are looking for. Young, intelligent, and knows what to expect from the world around him. I can mold something of greatness out of you." Crest explained. "I, no, we can give you anything you want or need. Actually--"
"What if I say no?" I had somehow found the gall to interrupt him. "You going to kill me?"
"No. I'll find what you want, and I'll give it to you." Crest stood, fixing his suit. "Her name was Kylie, no? What if I told you that we could track down the person who hit and killed her? Not enough? How about kidnapping and letting you kill the person who killed her? As slowly and painfully as you want, you can give that person your revenge. Is that enough for you, Cyrus?"
It was enough. More than enough.
"...Really? You're going to involve her in this?" I brushed my hair over the back of my head. "You think by dangling revenge in my face that I'll become blind to thought, and agree in rage? What do you get out of all this?"
"You weren't given a fair shot at life, Cyrus. Neither was I, or D-Bag. I just want to do what's right and give others a fighting chance at something they weren't born into." Crest looked down the hallway. "You and your girlfriend both lost the same loved one, yet you both were never given closure, given answers. It's only fair that the person who committed this act feels the same pain, no?"
"...Fine." I stared at the ground. "Just one condition, though."
"You want us to leave her alone, no matter what happens? We aren't such low animals as to injure an innocent woman. She will be left untouched as long as she stays out of our way." Crest walked to the door, leaving the gun on the table. "Let me know when you're ready. I'll send help."
The door shut, quietly.
"Fuck."
ns 15.158.61.6da2
