rainbowfic | Dreamwidth Red Saturation

Universe: Beschiverse
Title: How To Fall Apart
Colour: Dreamwidth Red
Supplies and styles: saturation, brush, stain, calendar page, glue, stickers, acrylics, silhouette, life drawing, graffiti, resin, portrait
So it doesn't get repetitive: the daily supplies thing were gathered: 09.05.2025
Brush: Gloss
Stain: (love quote of the day) Love is friendship set on fire. - Jeremy Taylor
Calendar page: National sleepover day
Glue: If you've been thinking about writing a novel or taking up oil painting, today is the day to begin. No excuses. You have just as much talent as anyone else, so why not use it? You might find it helpful to join a writing group or sign up for a painting workshop, if only to help you get started and stay motivated. Join a support group for artists. They will understand.
Stickers: Most people cannot lick their elbows.
Acrylics: Write a scene in which one character tells a secret they swore they'd never tell. This is not their secret, but the secret of a third party. What happens next?
Resin:

lyricaltitles Album Challenge [Cry Baby by Melanie Martinez (Deluxe Edition) - all the songs]
Word count: 5,644
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: implied/referenced abusive relationship & self-harm, underage drinking.
Summary: Ollie and Billy have been friends since childhood, and here are snapshots and the story of how they almost lost each other.
Note: I'm not sure if I'm gonna write more about these characters, so this is completely a stand-alone for now. This is quite light considering the story of the Cry Baby album, and what I usually do write

You're one of a kind and no one understands

Ollie (do not call her Olive, she wasn’t a flavour of cooking oil, thank you very much) hated the so many of her childhood memories are hazy. Days or weeks weren’t in neat, separated boxes. Large patches of time blurred together, Ollie chose to not think too much about any of that. She didn’t like the implications of that, even if Billy liked to tell her that it wasn’t that weird.

Billy, right,Billy. They’ve been friends for so long Ollie didn’t think there was life without Billy.

Billy who had been trying to feed Ollie’s “latent artistic tendencies”. The girl brought a box full of crayons, colouring pencils and a few water-based paints. Billy with women screaming like demons on her earbuds, the total of three non-black clothing items (a pair of blue jeans pants, a white tank top and a pastel pink sweatshirt she stole from Ollie), and a resting I’m-angry-at-the-world face.

She looked like she could eat you alive. The scary weird kid, Ollie thought it was stupid that their classmates didn’t even try to do much more than avoid Billy. It was better than picking on her, but she still deserved having more than one friend.

A part of Ollie was too jealous to not be glad she was one of very few people Billy even cared about. To be held at the same importance as Billy’s brother.

People didn’t understand Billy and Ollie was selfish enough to be almost happy about it.

She pulls out a flask and forgets his infidelity

Ollie knew of men that got mean when they were drunk.

Family troubles were family troubles, so people didn’t talk about it in person. At least, Ollie didn’t hear about it in person. But she fell down into rabbit holes, it wasn’t like her parents cared enough to try and monitor what she was doing.

It led to read too much stuff about stuff she shouldn’t be reading about.

Like detailed posts about families with mean drunk men. She once found a whole blog that was like watching a true crime documentary unfolding though the words of a hurt girl that deserved much better than she got. It was fascinating, like watching a car crash she couldn’t do anything to help but couldn’t look away either. And Ollie hated how she couldn’t do anything.

She hated how she could identify the red flags then, things she always noticed but didn’t understand.

She heard of men getting mean when drunk, and she knew her father didn’t drink. He always told her to not drink, that there was nothing worth in burning herself from inside out with cheap alcohol. Ollie always nodded along and was rewarded with forehead kisses.

Sometimes he got home with a damp hair and smelling like a cologne that wasn’t his. Mom got mean for days afterwards, breath smelling like rubbing alcohol, that stupid pretty flast always on her lips. Ollie learned how to hide away quite early on, not wanting to be yelled and growled at. Didn’t want to know if the woman threw hands or not, not when Ollie has always heard she was her father’s mini-me.

Keeping the non-drinking promise was easier that way.

Blood still stains when the sheets are washed

Billy was her best friend, just her friend. And friends didn't get to be jealous like that. At seventeen, Billy was filling out and Ollie might or might not notice the way her shirts started to be tight across her shoulders.

Ollie felt like punching someone the few times a girl or two clearly noticed Billy, suddenly interesting instead of just the worst emo artsy kid. And Ollie told herself it was because Billy deserved to be noticed for more than becoming attractive in the post-lanky limbs era.

It was a Wednesday night, she was curled around a stupid English assignment that was due to Friday. She was sure that Billy had it done the same day they were handed it over, the little nerd. Her fingers itched to text Billy and offer candy and chips as payment for the girl to come over and help. She had bitten all over the pencil when the first small stone hit the window. Then the next and the next until Ollie went over it.

There Billy was, she then quickly climbed up, like she has been doing for years when sneaking in.

Ollie brain’s short-circuited. She knew Billy’s wardrobe didn’t consist only of pants, long-sleeved shirts and sweatshirts, and a pair of well-loved combat boots. She also had seen Billy wearing other clothes, most notably the mandatory shorts and shirt for gym class. And even make-up a couple of time, had seem that Billy kept some.

But this?

Alright, that was why girls started to swoon over Billy.

Shorts so short that Ollie was sure Billy was not wearing one of her usual boxers – she chose to not thing about what kind of underwear she had on. Legs for days? Legs for days. Ollie wasn’t aware Billy had the skillset to walk in ten-centimeters high heels, much less climb the fucking wall with those. The crop top was Billy’s thrifted Nirvana shirt that had been clearly cut without much thought.

But then Ollie registed the blood.

Dripping from her crooked nose, smudged from her split lip. And Billy had a feral smile, and slightly crazed eyes. Ollie sniffed the air just to register cheap cologne, cigarettes and liquor.

“Are you drunk? And you got into a fight?”

“Just a little.”

“Just a little what?”

“Drunk. Maybe high by proxy,” her skin felt too warm when Ollie held her arm and pulled her towards the chair. "

“And how did you get yourself hurt?”

“A guy thought it was funny to call me a dyke, I thought it was funny to punch him.”

Billy and her beautiful feral grin. Billy started to go off in a tangent about one’s incapability of licking their own elbow. It was easier to ignore the blood then.

Ollie hated blood, unless it was her own and in a specific situation.

At least she had medical supplies under the bed.

And it's all fun and games 'til somebody falls in love

It wasn’t a date, it wasn’t not a date either.

Billy had commented something about going out to eat together. Ollie was hit by the fact that the two of them never really went out together. They hang out in each other’s place, exclusively Ollie’s in the last two years. School lunch time didn’t count as going out together. And they usually had at least three plus ones when going out to the movies or to eat some pizza.

“A sushi place opened downtown,” Billy told her when they were sharing, well, sushi. How dextrous she was with the chopsticks was almost humiliating. “Wanna go there? It’d be fun.”

“I- yeah, it’d be fun.”

She may or may not have flushed when her brain registered that Billy was basically asking her out. The girl looked amused, Ollie didn’t know how much Billy was just fucking with her and how much she was being genuine about it

Billy wasn’t known for making fun of people, but still.

It wasn’t a date then, but wasn’t not a date either, then? It was Billy, with her wannabe scary persona and her cute things. Always happy to hear about Ollie’s interests and the she was still subtly incentivising Ollie.

So, not really a date but Ollie tried to look good. Better than the one time she tried to go it with a boy. Hoping her mother wouldn’t be in a bad mood. There was nothing weird about best friends going out in Wednesday evening.

“You look nice,” her dad praised. “Looking all grown up, finally having a date, uh?”

“Billy and I are just getting some dinner, dad, it’s not that.”

“Right,” he winked - which was an awkward blinking with both eyes. “Here,” he handed her a few bills and whispered in a conspiracy-like tone. “Have some fun with your… friend.”

Her face warmed up: “Dad!”

“You’re young, it’s time to have fun. Stay safe tho, I don’t have enough grey hairs to be a grandad.”

“It’s Billy.”

“Yes, I know. A good girl, even if she does have an awful musical taste.”

The doorbell, thankfully, stopped him from going on and on about how a human’s ear shouldn’t be tortured by noise kids called music. Billy, in that blue jeans and a white tank top visible under a brand new jacket, reminded Ollie that those feelings are getting hard to ignore.

At least her stomach was craving for some stupid raw fish and rice just enough to not focus on this stupid crush for now. Nothing less flattering than letting Billy watch her stuff her face with it as she fumbled with chopstick as always.

You think you're smarter than me with all your bad poetry

In their small circle of friends, Ollie didn’t dislike Aaron.

She outright hated him.

With the stupid boyish smile, the wannabe-emo style that didn’t fit him the way it fit Billy. Maybe because Ollie could see right through him, see the way he was trying to be Billy’s type. Which, annoying, Ollie herself wasn’t sure of what was Billy’s type.

They didn’t talk boys, or girls, or romance at all.

So there was Aaron, trying to be Billy’s type by wearing clothes similar to her and pretending he knew all the songs she ever mentioned. As if those songs weren’t an acquired taste, sometimes it was a little bit too much even for Ollie. That boy was a country type of dude, with his stupidly bad poetry.

Really, really bad poetry. The kind that are a poorly constructed sentence with random break lines to pretend they were actual poems. Sometimes he had the audacity of taking a lyric or two, modifying it to sound like something a boy as dumb as him could have written. Then presented as if it was a masterpiece that should grant him the write to dive under Billy’s pants.

Ollie would like to break his nose.

Let me under your skin

A sleepover spiced up with sneaked in alcohol was exactly what Ollie needed. Somehow that bitch Aaron won in the school stupid poll about poetry. Probably because Billy didn’t submit her own works (Ollie thought it was because most of them were too intimate to show off for the few dozes of students that woul d actually read the pieces to vote).

Ollie herself was awful as poetry, but she didn’t pretend she was any good at it.

They had shared half of a bottle already, ate a ridiculous amount of chips and other snacks. Billy was louging on her bed in boxers and one of the very few Ollie’s shirts that still fit her.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” Billy asked, nonchalant as if she wasn’t trying to shatter reality itself. “Of Aaron.”

“I don’t even like Aaron, what are you talking about?”

“You don’t like him, exactly,” she had that infuriating little smirk of hers. Billy shouldn’t look that cute with the fluster of drunkeness.

“So how can I be jealous if I’d like to rearrange his face with my fists.”

“Violent much, are we?” Billy giggled, she squirmed on the bed until her head on on Ollie’s lap. “Kiss me already then.”

“Keep looking at me like that and I might.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to get me to fuck you.”

“Bold,” Billy reached up to cup the back of her neck. “I like it when you’re bold.”

Ollie shouldn’t, but Billy was looking up at her like she was hoping for this and the hand on the back of her neck was quite alluring. Fuck it. Ollie wouldn’t complain getting under her clothes, under her skin. Just to stay close and warm.

Billy kissed her back with even more hunger and need.

I carry band-aids on me now

Bad habits were easy to develop, to create and let it fester. Let it take root deep within someone’s soul. Like it belonged there and breaking the habit would break something vital. She didn’t know how to explain any of that, how to make it make sense.

Ollie hated it, the need to bleed for her mind to be covered in safe silence instead of the chaos trying to make her for worse things.

She started to carry band-aids and razor lades on her wallet, hidden well-enough that Billy couldn’t see it when she grabbed a couple of borrowed bills like she did at least two times every week. (And then hide new ones back once she got her Friday payment from the grocery shop she worked part-time in).

She added extra band-aids, which Billy noticed recently and asked about it. Ollie told her it was because now Billy thought it was fun to go out and get into var fights, so Ollie needed them to keep all of Billy’s injuries covered.

Billy didn’t need to know about the bad days, about the days in which she was thinking too much. After the worst nights when not even the loudest pig squeals and banshee screams (thank you, Billy’s playlists) were enough to muffle their fights. Or better, her mother anger and her father quiet acceptance.

At least, for now, possibly unrequited feelings weren’t in the list. If those feelings were required, Billy didn’t say it. They didn’t talk about feelings. Billy only kissed her back every time Ollie kissed her, usually hugry and enthusiastic. Sometimes almost sickeningly sweet, a hand on the back of her neck and pulling her close.

But there was no way for Ollie to be sure they were dating. That they were together. They only… kissed on the mouth now. Still cuddled the same, and had similar conversations. Billy showed up at her window with split knuckles and smelling like cigarettes, so still partying.

There was nothing official about them.

Ollie enjoyed it anyways. Until Billy found someone better, she could take anything she was given. It was pathetic, and humiliating, and sometimes she bled to exorcise those thoughts. She could thrive under any attention Billy gave her.

She’d be fine.

Maybe it's a cruel joke on me

Not being official didn’t make it hurt any less when Aaron told her.

In a whispering secret kind of voice, I saw Willow kissing a woman at the party. It had been shocking enough for Ollie to not care that he used a name the total of zero people were allowed to use. She didn’t care that Aaron sounded a little upset and also disgusted by it, she didn’t ask about it. Maybe he hated that Billy liked to kiss girls, or maybe it was the fact that it was probably an older woman that shouldn’t be kissing a seventeen year-old (fake ID or not).

Ollie shouldn’t believe him, but then… but then she didn’t know girlfriend-not-girlfriend Billy. Only my best friend since we were toddlers Billy. These two weren’t the same person. She didn’t think the girl would be cruel on purpose, of course not.

But still…

Ollie got away with a week of avoiding Billy before the girl was knocking at her door like the world was ending. Father was out, mom was drinking wine as she watched TV, Ollie wished both were home because then Billy would get distracted by their fighting. But mom just grumbles about Billy being welcomed to go upstairs.

“Alrighr, what’s going on? You’re ignoring me, I don’t like it,” she was direct and blunt.

“Aaron told me he saw you kissing a woman at the bar.”

Billy blinked: “And? I thought you obviously knew I’m into girls.”

“I have a literal pride flag hanging on the ceiling, you think that would bother me?”

“It’s a valid concern, you’re my best friend.”

“We kissed each other!”

“Experimenting?”

“I tried to go down on you, that’s not just experimenting.”

“Ok then. So what’s the issue? You know I’m a lesbian, you know I go out. Oh, I make out with women, how surprising.”

“You could’ve told me.”

“My sex life is none of your business.”

“You sex life? Jesus.”

“Look at me, Ollie, I look good and my weird talk sometimes make the ladies want a piece of this cake.”

“So you’re a slut now?”

The world stopped. Billy frowned at her, she stepped back like it was a physical blow. Before Ollie could regret them and apologise, the girl was already out of the door. Ollie tried to follow her, but Billy was quickly to leave and hop on her bike.

Stupid jealousy, stupid hormones. Sometimes it felt like the world was making awful, cruel jokes at her expanse every single time it got a little better.

Little bit of poison in me, I can taste your skin in my teeth

They met each other playing tag in the park.

Maybe she was being dramatic, sitting at the bench and almost grieving in a way that would make you think Billy died. Not that it was their first argument, or the closest to one.

Ollie checked her clock, she sneaked out for the first time, it had been easy. And had been waiting, the closest bar was open for a couple of hours at this point. Having turned eighteen in the hazy of the last few days, she’s just a friend, you’re so pathetic, at least Ollie didn’t need a fake ID to get in.

She felt out of place in the second she stepped in, even if she has tried to look less… nerdy. Had grabbed the tightest jeans she got, and her dress shirt wasn’t buttoned all the way up and her sleeves were rolled up her elbows. Not very partying-looking, but not her usual either. She thought she looked good, and was proven right by having three different dudes hitting on her in thirty minutes.

Then came the woman.

Tall and lean, bare arms covered in dark tattoos. Her booty shorts paired with a dangerously short crop top left nothing for the imagination. Ollie found herself willingly guided to a darker corner and pushed against the wall in ten minutes.

If bars were filled by women like this one, right, she got why Billy kept coming back.

Ollie was buzzed just enough to furiously make out with a nameless woman. Let her brain wander farther than this but making sure the woman knew Ollie was there for kissing.

She tried not to think how it should be Billy kissing her, pressing her against the wall and doing whatever she wanted. Even the mix of cheap cigarettes and cheaper alcohol made her taste almost like Billy.

Maybe because, right now, Billy tastes like heartbreak and that was everything coating Ollie’s tongue

Sing you a lullaby where you die at the end

Ollie wasn’t sure if the message was loud and clear, I don’t care we’re not friends anymore.

Lie: she hated they apparently broke up over jealousy, calling Billy a slut just to turn around and act not that differently from her. Because it was easier to deal with it when there were hands on her waist and a mouth against her own that she could pretend was Billy’s.

Ollie was still running out of band-aids.

She watched the way a couple of girls flocked over to Billy, like Billy had been their silly crush forever and Ollie’s presence kept them away from her. Billy laughed at their stupid jokes, didn’t seem bothered by having her shoulders and arms poked, almost glistening under the attention and not even checking if Ollie was watching.

How it fucking hurt.

One of the stupid blonde cheerleader spent most of lunch break whispering things on Billy’s ear, making her flush in a cute shade of red. Made Ollie sneak out to smoke a cigarette or two, press the dying tip against the same patch of skin on her stomach like the pathetic girl she was.

“I could fuck those thoughts away.”

Maybe she should. Maybe Ollie should let it happen, loose her precious little virginity to a nameless woman over teenage heartbreak. But she couldn’t, not when she could close her eyes and imagine Billy’s disappointed face.

Instead, she wrote shitty poetry and stupid fantasies that would send her to a psych ward. That jealousy monster thought about the world where Billy died in the end, so nobody could have her if she didn’t allow Ollie to have her.

“What’s on your mind?” A woman asked, so many piercings that she was a hazard anwyare close to an MRI. “Kiddo?”

“Sometimes I think about killing someone.”

“They deserve it?”

“No.”

“So never let them know.”

But was (s)he yours if (s)he wanted me so bad?

The girl’s name was Claire, Ollie hated her much more than already hated Aaron.

Claire wasn’t actively trying to appease to Billy’s tastes. She didn’t try to force herself to fit in Billy’s profile. Claire was girly and feminine and she stayed girly and feminine. And hanging on Billy’s arm like a trophy wife.

Claire was pathetic, she thought.

Unlike Aaron, Claire got under Billy’s pants. She wore the hickey on her neck like a badge if honour. She draped herself over Billy like an overgrown, annoying cat. Territorial and staring down at the other girls that still flirted with Billy. Claire would probably throw hands if Ollie was still around, someone else intimate with her girlfriend? (Were they even actual girlfriends?) A valid reason for assault.

So Ollie was surprised when she spotted Billy clearly flirting with an older woman at the bar later that day. She had a drink in hand and looked ready to climb that woman like a tree. Then Billy caught her, and sneaked between sweaty bodies to reach her. Ollie didn’t resist when Billy grabbed her wrist and pulled her to a darker corner.

“What are you doing here?” Billy asked.

“I’m having fun,” she smiled. “You? I noticed you’re flirting with a random woman.”

“What I do is none of your business.”

“You have a girlfriend.”

“You’re what, relationship police now?”

“You got all upset because I said you’re slut, then proceeded to cheat on your girlfriend?”

Billy pushed her by the shoulders against the wall: “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Billy stared at her for a minute before grabbing her chin and kissing her. It was all teeth, hunger and need. Ollie grabbed her waist, warm and soft under hands, and pulled her closer. Billy melted against her, Ollie deepened the kiss, she could taste those awful cigarettes Billy insisted in smoking.

She’d love to hear that little moan many times.

Billie grabbed her wrists and tried to pull down. Ollie resister and the girl whined. She tried to not think about how this was probably the way she acted with all the women she decided to make out in these shady bars. But despite whining, Billy didn’t fight or complain, she just kept holding onto Ollie’s wrists and enjoyed all that kissing.

Ollie would feel gross and stupid in the morning, Billy wouldn’t even akno her existence, and she’d comfort herself with this stupid kissing memory.

No one will love you if you’re unattractive

Ollie couldn’t tell when mom stopped being mom. Being something like an actual parent, the same way father tried to when he was home and wasn’t being screamed at for his wrongdoings.

She had one memory of it, archived deep enough to never let anything else touch it. Ollie was six or seven, pthe details weren’t crystal clear a decade or so later. Her mother’s breath smelled like the mint toothpaste Ollie still hated, her fingers were gentle on her hair as the woman braided it. A complicated hairdo Ollie never bothered to learn, it wouldn’t be the same.

Mother told her about making herself pretty, how important that would be once she was older and wanted a boy’s attention. Ollie probably thought something like I don’t need a boy’s attention, I have Billy’s. The love was there before romantic love stopped feeling gross for her.

A fire that have been burning for so long that losing it would kill her.

Ollie hated the reflection, hated that she could tell she was nowhere as attractive as the other girls throwing themselves at Billy. Did any of their kisses meant anything at all? Billy probably barely remembered any of them.

Will you ever look at me again?

‘Cause I really hate being safe

Ollie was bored, she rearranged the icon on her phone fifteen times. No homework, no texts to reply. It should be a sleepover with Billy, but Billy was probably fucking Claire or being fucked against a wall by a woman with a taste for questionably young girls.

She wanted to punch someone, or something, just do anything with the anger that festered when she was bored, when she had nothing to do. She tried to use the papers and pencils Billy left for her all those months ago. It made her want to burn them, but she limited herself to throwing them away.

Sneaking out felt better than staying in her room and being all pathetically sad over someone that probably didn’t care at all. You really managed to ruin over ten years of friendship just because you’re a jealous bitch. Ollie stumbled across the nearest bar that could get her dirty drunk with the money she still had from her allowance.

She should get a job, probably.

Drinking to numb it, am I becoming my mother? Of course I am. I’m rotting like she is, I just started earlier and for someone who’s not even my fucking wife. Ollie liked to stop when she felt a little warm, but she kept going. And going and going.

“I think that was enough,” Ollie jumped a little at Aaron’s voice, she turned. He didn’t look quite sober either, but not in his way to alcoholic comatose like she was. “Come on, Olive.”

“I really hate that name,” she slurred.

“I don’t think I’m your friend enough to call you a nickname.”

“It’s not a nickname.”

“Alright, sorry. Come on, Ollie.”

“Where you wanna take me?”

“Home. Your home, I’m far from you type. And you’re drunk to, even if I was-”

“Oh, you’re minimally decent?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to go home.”

“We can just take a walk until you sober up.”

“Fine. Fine.”

It was a bad idea. This drunk, going alone with a guy she didn’t really know at all. She still didn’t like him, even if she have noticed he stopped being obviously flirty with Billy. But a guy was a guy and she had no real reason to believe she was safe with him.

Ollie still smacked her last money on the bar and followed him.

(If she was going to be blamed for something bad happening, she’d make see she was mostly to blame anyways.

That masochist part of her seeking for having a reason to be broken was disappointed when all Aaron did was walk around with her. And then leave her safe and sound at her door.)

Just me and you and you and me alone

“It’s one in the morning, what are you doing here?” Ollie asked after Billy stumbled into her room, smelling like cigarettes and cologne. Did Billy ever spend most of the nights at home now? Always partying, Ollie wouldn’t be surprised if there was a significant dip on her grades ever since that shift happened.

“I missed you,” she said, Ollie was pretty sure that Billy stepped off a cigarette before climbing up the wall. “Hey. Sorry.”

“You should be at home.”

“I- I missed you.”

“Yeah, I heard. Still…”

Ollie threw herself on the bed, she looked twenty years older: “I’m sorry.”

“Billy…”

“I fucked up, I know. I’m… I’m awful at coping with my feelings. Y’know that.”

“Yeah… me too. I did call you a slut.”

“You’re not that wrong, are you? I’m stupid anyways. I just… I’m sorry.”

“Come here.”

Billy blinked at her and then almost thew herself onto Ollie’s arms, trying to make herself as small as possible to fit in. Ollie applied as much pressure as she could.

Maybe it wouldn’t fix it all in a moment, but it was enough for now.

How did love become so violent?

They harmed each other, it was almost crystal clear if you ask Ollie. Even if she liked to pretend her dad was the victim in there. But then, as far as she knew, he started cheating years before mom snapped.

They had been an example of a loving couple in the community, a beautiful girl and a handsome boy, picture-perfect marriage. Three years in, the boy was a man and got his first promotion. A year later, they were welcoming their one and only child.

Ollie imagined that maybe the cheating didn’t start much time after she was born. After all, all of mom’s attention was in her and he didn’t have a wife once there was a mother in the house. She wondered if the woman blamed her.

They were still picture-perfect for the outsiders.

They didn’t see the bags under father’s eyes - he learned how to cover up with concealer in a way that still looked like he was mostly make-up-less. (Ollie had seen some of his work colleagues, the younger ones didn’t even care. They were all too busy trying to reach goals and objectives to notice much about the others’ face.) A small scar on his eyebrow from the time a shoe did hit him, the deep-rooted sadness inside of him.

They didn’t the the hollowness in mom’s eyes when she was sober, and the unbridled rage when she was drunk. She smelled like alcohol most night for so long Ollie didn’t remember how her perfume smelled like.

They also didn’t see how much Ollie wanted out.

Out of this home, out of this life, out of life altogether.

All of it glossed over by the image of a family almost beyond perfection. Hard-working father, stay at home wife, good grades daughter. (The cheater, the alcoholic, the depressed.)

Not even Billy’s return softened the blow of how things were decaying faster now. Not when Ollie’s ears were still ringing form the long rant her mother went earlier today, not when the dish hit the wall behind right where her face was a second before. Not when their fight almost because a full-blown physical fight over Ollie waking up five minutes later.

Maybe it had taken too long for things to escalate.

Billy climbed up her window later than usual for her visits, at least she was smelling like her own neutral soap and wearing sweatpants and a band t-shirt. The girl blinked and stared at her for a moment, like she could smell something was wrong.

“How bad are things?” She asked with a gentle voice.

“It’s the usual.”

“The neighbour’s kid said he heard dishes breaking and people screaming earlier.”

“You interrogated the kid?”

“He’s Vick’s little cousin, he told her.”

“Who the fuck is Vick?”

“My brother’s girlfriend. Haven’t I told you? He’s dating her, she’s nice enough for a first girlfriend. That’s not the point here.”

“It’s fine,” Ollie threw herself on the bed, Billy followed her by draping over her like an oversized possessive cat. “We had a little fight. It’s silly. You know my mom.”

“We should run away.”

“Because my mom sometimes is pissed at me? That’s normal. She still loves me.”

“That’s not how love is supposed to be, much less parental love.”

“Isn’t love supposed to hurt?” Because loving you hurts. It hurts a lot.

“Not like this. Not like this at all.”

Your kiss is sugary sweet

They met at the park.

“Dad has been a bitch about my brother,” Billy said. “I… they fight almost every night, I don’t want to be there when it escalates to a physical fight.”

“That's why you started to… go out?”

“It’s a good distraction.”

“You could’ve spent more time with me.”

“With you, yes. With your parents being a Timebomb? No.”

“Yeah. They’re getting worse. My mom’s getting worse,” she thought about the flask she started to keep on her person too, snatched from her mom’s collection. “I think I’m becoming her.”

“You won’t be like her.”

“I lost my shit over an unrequited crush. Fucked up our friendship because I was jealous.”

“Ollie, baby,” she moved closer, placing a hand on the back of Ollie’s neck. “I think we’re just very dumb.”

“Are we? I went ballistic because you were making out with someone as if I had the right to acted like a spouse that was cheated on.”

“I didn’t know it was serious to you.”

Ollie stared at her: “What?”

“I thought you wanted to experiment, mess around a little. So I just… didn’t stop going out and doing dumb shit. Why do you think I kissed you that night at the bar?”

“Because you’re… weird?”

“Because I’ve been in love with you since I can remember having romantic feeliildfire s. That comforting, soothing fire of friendship have been burning much hotter like a wildfire for years now. I thought you’d always only see me as your childhood little freak of a friend.”

“I- really?”

“Yes.”

Ollie kissed her. She tasted cigarettes as always, covered by cherry gums Billy had snacked on for years now. But the sweetness came from the relief.

Ollie wasn’t the only one stupid enough to fall in love with her best friend.

If it had hurt that much so far, she could only imagine it’d hurt much more now. But she’d jump in head first anyways.