broken hearts and broken bones,

this is where we used to l i v e . . .

〰️〰️〰️

I had never particularly cared about New Year's Eve, but that could be said for most holidays now because the older I got, the less captivating they became. Essentially, they were all just another day. Once I realized that my birthday wasn't observed worldwide and the universe did, in fact, continue on, my outlook on these days shifted.

For the last eight years, I had rung in the new year with Gus. It didn't matter what our plans were; we were always together. We made sure of it. He was my one and only New Year's kiss that I had wished for since I first heard of the corny tradition.

It all started with an accidental drink offering at a house party when we were sixteen. Gus and I, that is.

The summer going into junior year of high school was a pretty memorable time. Aside from it being the prologue to my roller coaster of a relationship, it was when life began to change. We only had two years left at Clearloft High and everyone in our grade was maturing. Shedding their previously innocent skins to fit the image of the upperclassmen we were about to become. We were the Beta beasts, following in the footsteps of our Alpha senior class, salivating at the idea of being at the top of the food chain once they graduated. The kids below us were so young; they knew nothing, they were nothing.

In reality, we were all exactly the same. At the time it seemed like such a big age difference when really, we were all just as young and dumb as the next high-schooler.

I was standing by myself for whatever reason in the spacious backyard that belonged to all-star swimmer Quinn Regis when Gus approached me, holding a red Solo cup brimming with foamy beer. It was hot as hell and every girl was wearing the trend of the moment – low-rise denim shorts, layered tank tops in assorted colors, and Old Navy flip flops – so Gus mistook me for someone else. Or so he said.

"Here's your beer," he said casually as he came up from behind me and held the cup out.

"What?" I asked him, furrowing my eyebrows that were hidden beneath the solid chunk of side bangs I had going at the time.

He blinked when I turned to face him, eyes widening when our gazes connected, then stammered out an apology.

"Shit, s-sorry. Thought you were uh, someone else," he fumbled over his words.

"Really?" I cocked my head a little to the side. I didn't believe him for a second.

He nodded. "Sorry."

"I mean, I'll take the drink since you offered," I said, feeling a smirk slip through my lips.

Now his eyebrows were drawn together, but more out of amusement. A corner of his mouth turned up.

"You trust me?"

And it was sweet of him to ask, I thought, considering I hadn't seen him pour the drink and drugging girls had been a rampant crime at unsupervised parties. I couldn't explain it, but I had an overwhelming sense of assurance in him. I hardly knew him and could only form an opinion about him from the few times we'd spoken in classes we had together, with a random flirty comment peppered in here and there. We weren't friends, per say, by any means. In that moment, it felt like I'd known him my whole life.

Whether it was because I was already tipsy and thought his eyes looked like actual sapphire stones, or his striped polo and khaki shorts were too damn endearing to me, I took the drink.

"I do," I whispered with a nod.

He held his hand out again. I took the drink. His smile won me over.

Our love story took off from there. A year later, we decided to stop messing around and become official, though we were never unfaithful to one another since he first gave me the drink at that party. It was always us. We were endgame and we knew it.

I didn't think it'd affect me as much as it did, not having him around for one measly New Year's Eve, but I'd be damned if I didn't wake up feeling emotional on the morning of.

Before Gus, and quite frankly after too, I'd spend the annual holiday with Collin. This year, it seemed it'd be just the two of us again, like it always used to be.

Though I claimed to hate the climb up to the roof at Collin's place, it was where I found solace for a majority of the afternoon. No one could see me nor find me up here, except for my two roommates who both had a collaborative photoshoot they needed to attend to all day. Since I was off from work and it was accessible through my own bedroom window, I decided to give it a try.

I'd never realized how incredible of a spot it was to get some quality alone time and do some serious thinking.

It was windy and definitely a subzero temperature, but I didn't care. It was too peaceful. The sun was beginning to set, tinting the sky pink as it disappeared over the hills that sat on the other side of the expressway that was clogged with cars. The fact that I wasn't one of those miserable motorists was enough to lighten any shitty mood I could've been in.

I must have been thinking too much or not enough, because suddenly I caught a glimpse of something moving from the corner of my eye. When I looked to my left, Collin's head popped up over the edge of the roof where his hands were latched on to steady himself. He grunted as he pulled his body up, rolled onto the flat surface of the roof with the least amount of grace I'd ever seen, then strolled over and collapsed next to me with a distressed sigh.

"Fuck," he panted, "That never gets any easier."

I held out the blanket that was draped over my legs, with another wrapped around my back and a third underneath of me, and he gladly took some. It took me by surprise that he didn't ask why I was on the roof, but I figured those questions would come as soon as he caught his breath.

He stuck one of his hands inside his unzipped bomber jacket, fumbling around for something until I heard the crinkling of a bag. I watched him, eyebrows raised in anticipation, until he pulled out a familiar little bright green bag. He dangled it in front of my eyes, the bubble words Sour Gummy Crawlers taunting me.

Every person in my life knew how fond I was of gummy worms. Not just any gummy worms either. They had to be the sour kind.

"Oh hell yes," I sang, snatching the bag from him and tearing off a corner with my teeth like a rabid raccoon that hadn't eaten in months.

I held it captive to my chest as I reached in and grabbed a healthy handful, while Collin chuckled and cautiously stretched a hand over to take a few. Against my will to share any, I allowed him to have some since he brought them to me in the first place.

He popped one into his mouth before asking me, "What are you doing up here?"

"Just thinking," I said as I bit a blue worm in half.

"Oh yeah?" He questioned with a peaked interest. "About what?"

"A lot," I sighed. "For starters, I never thought I'd be spending New Year's Eve alone. I mean, I know I'm not really alone. Like, I have you obviously but... I don't know. It's just another stupid holiday with a stupid tradition but it still sucks. You're with someone for so long and all of a sudden they're gone and it's like... what the fuck do I do now?"

I saw Collin nodding through my peripheral vision. "I get that," he said lowly.

"Plus, I was thinking I have to go back and get the rest of my stuff. I can't keep living like this, I'll go insane. If I wear those black jeans one more time, they're gonna disintegrate," I said, shaking my head at myself.

My outfit of the day was a pair of leggings, a thick woolen flannel that was Collin's (whose closet I invaded on more than one occasion since I'd been living with him), my leather jacket, and my slippers. Not a look I'd want to be seen wearing in public, that was certain.

Collin shifted so he was looking at me. I took my eyes away from where they'd been settled on the traffic jam in the distance and faced him.

"I can go get your stuff if you want, so you don't have to deal with Gus," he told me.

The offer was as tempting as the gummy worms were. I debated it for a split second before I shook my head again when I realized how cowardice that'd be. We were adults, even though most days I didn't believe that, and having my best friend go to my old apartment to pick up whatever I'd left behind when I moved out was about as spineless as I could get.

"No, it's okay. I think it's something I need to do. Confront what I've done," I hoarsely explained, ignoring the discomfort that last thought stirred in me. Optimistically and maybe a bit delusional, I shrugged and suggested an idea. "Maybe he won't be there, you know? Maybe he'll be out. It is New Year's, after all. I still have my key so I'll be able to get in myself. I just really don't wanna tell him I'm coming because he'll drop whatever he's doing to be there, whether he's already home or not. He'd do anything just to have five minutes to talk to me."

"Well, you haven't spoken actual words, not texts, to the guy since you broke up with him, so I have to agree," Collin said with a grimace. "This is also the most I've heard you talk about him since then, too."

"Keeping everything bottled up only works for so long," I admitted.

He slung an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me, his lips curving into a smile. "I'm proud of you," he said.

"Proud of the bum I've become?"

"No," he scoffed, "Proud of how strong you are. You're handling this in your own way. And no matter what happens, I know you're gonna get through this."

I felt myself smiling a little too as I whispered, "Thanks, Coll."

"Anytime. Now let me at least drive you so you'll have a quick getaway and won't have to wait for an Uber in case he's there and you guys end up going to war."

It wasn't that funny, but it made me laugh, and it was the first time I'd done that in a while.

〰️〰️〰️

Never had I been more intimidated by a door handle than when I got to the threshold of mine and Gus' apartment. It was the only kind of emotion I could feel since I couldn't even remember getting in the building, riding the elevator up, or trekking down the halls. Everything became hazy the minute I set foot on the sidewalk outside Lincoln Lofts.

Ten minutes had gone by since Collin dropped me off. While he was searching for a parking spot, he probably thought I was already inside either chewing Gus' head off or gathering my things in hopes that he wouldn't be there. Instead, I stood outside of the door. Staring at the keyhole, chewing on my bottom lip, waiting for a miracle.

Waiting for something, but I didn't know what.

I still didn't know if Gus was home. He could have been out running errands, out with his friends, out getting dinner. He could have been sitting right in the living room, oblivious to my presence just a few feet away. The mystery of it killed me even more than trying to muster up a puny ounce of strength to get myself actually in the apartment.

Pushing myself off the wall I was leaning against, I drug my feet so I was standing close enough to unlock the door. Close enough to hear the TV or the oven beeping. A few seconds passed and I heard nothing.

My hands were in the pockets of my jacket, one of them clenching my key ring. I shakily took it out and forced it into the keyhole, hesitating for a moment before I twisted it around a few times and jiggled the handle we never got fixed. It was a guessing game on how many times it'd take to actually unlock it. Our landlord didn't care too much about it, but neither did we.

I held my breath as I started to open the door, part of me wondering why it felt weightless. It made sense when I realized there was a hand pulling on the door from the inside at the same time I pushed it.

My gaze anchored itself to Gus' when I lifted my head and I felt a gust of air break free from wherever it was located in my chest.

We stared at each other in dumbfounded silence. His mouth parted, then shut. I was still gripping the key in the handle, he was still holding the door open. Every part of my body went numb. I couldn't remember anything.

I didn't anticipate how it'd feel to see Gus again for the first time after leaving him. To say I felt like crying was the absolute last thing I expected.

It seemed like we were standing there for an hour before Gus was the first to speak.

"Hey."

The greeting was feeble, but I sensed the tiniest bit of joy in his voice from the way it hitched.

"Hi," I said so gruffly, I could've been mistaken for a man in this conversation.

He swallowed thickly, my focus briefly skipping down to watch his throat. "I was just about to head out. What's up?" He asked, his words slow, low and steady.

Glancing back up at his eyes, I blinked a few times. Our apartment. We're at our apartment. I need to get my things. Right.

"I-I... um..." I stammered. Off to a great start. "Can I come in?"

Gus looked at me like that was the most bizarre thing I'd ever asked him. Like I should've already known the answer.

"Yeah, of course," he said with a nod.

I waited for him to open the door a little more, but he peered down at my hand pointedly. It was still holding onto the door handle for dear life.

My cheeks were on fire as I tore my key out and put it back in my jacket pocket. I caught him smiling to himself as he swung the door back and stepped aside to let me in.

Walking into our apartment post breakup was supposed to feel wrong. It was supposed to feel like an alternative universe that I didn't belong in. It was supposed to be uncomfortable and awkward and downright fucking weird.

It wasn't. I had been out of the place for fifteen days and it felt like I was finally coming home.

Gus was standing somewhere behind me as I surveyed my surroundings. I wasn't sure where to look first. At the pile of dishes in the sink? At the miscellaneous paperwork on the island? At all the laundry littering the floor of the bedroom I could see through the ajar door?

Everything was just as I'd left it. I wasn't sure if the last two weeks really happened or not.

When Gus cleared his throat, I spun around. My eyes met the sneakers on his feet first; the ones he started wearing after Ziggy chewed up his favorite pair. They traveled up his legs clad in the gray joggers I loved, to the dark blue hoodie he wore like a second layer of skin, and lastly to his face.

His face I hadn't seen since he was cleaning up protein powder off the floor, pleading for me to stay so we could fix things, blocking my way so I wouldn't leave. The five o'clock shadow highlighted his lethal jawline, the haircut he must have gotten a few days ago brought out his eyes. I'd gone so long without seeing that sapphire stare that it was pulling me in like a riptide.

"You got plans for tonight?" He asked out of nowhere.

I felt myself come out of whatever trance I'd been in and shook my head. Get it together, Bayla.

"Not really. I'm not in the mood for it," I muttered. "You?"

God, this is so fucking weird.

Gus shrugged a shoulder, scratching at his chin. "Dean's having something small at his place, but honestly, I don't know if I feel like going. I might just end up staying home," he explained with a dry laugh.

"Yeah, same," I agreed.

He hummed like he was reflecting on my answer. That was when I realized home wasn't the same place for us anymore.

Shuddering to myself, I inhaled so I could get on with why I was here in the first place.

"Anyway, I have my half of the rent for this month," I said as I reached into my bag for the envelope of cash I'd kept aside for him.

"You don't have to do that," he said, taking a couple of steps closer to me.

I looked up at him from my purse. There was a safe amount of space between us, but I began to feel suffocated. All I needed was to get my stuff and get the hell out.

"Yes, I do," I said sternly. When he didn't counter my argument, I let out a sigh. "Please just take it. It'll make me feel a little bit better about myself."

"Okay," he rasped, "But if it ends up back in your bank account, don't ask any questions."

Shaking my head as if that was my way of disregarding that statement, I huffed, "Whatever. I also came here to get the rest of my stuff."

"You're really doing this?" He asked, his tone softening.

"Yeah, Gus. I am."

I held out the envelope for him to take and he looked down at it, baffled like it was nothing he'd ever seen before. I had a flashback to when he offered me the beer at Quinn Regis' backyard party and felt sweat build up on the back of my neck. He reluctantly took it, the slight brush of our fingers lighting a fire in my stomach.

"You know this is still your place. I didn't take your name off the lease. You're welcome back anytime," he told me.

"Well it's not my place for the time being so I'll just get my things and go."

He didn't argue with that. He didn't have a chance to because I rushed into the bedroom before he could register my words.

It took everything in me not to crawl right into the unmade bed and fall asleep, pretending like none of this ever happened.

To get myself to go through with this mission, I didn't even turn the light on. Only when I went in the bathroom to get the rest of my makeup and toiletries. I knew it was impossible for me to bring everything of mine, but I tried. I packed whatever I could into a spare overnight bag I still had here and left behind what I considered insignificant. It could've also been a subtle way of hoping I'd come back here one day. Sooner than later, if we were being super hopeful.

I hauled the bag out to where Gus was propped against the island in the kitchen. His arms were crossed and his eyes were cast downwards, until he noticed me. I froze in my tracks when our gazes connected, his glassier than mine.

"Can't you just come back?" He breathed.

I almost felt myself break.

"Gus, I can't do this right now," I said, my voice dipping as I looked away from him. "You begging me to come back isn't gonna save us. We need this break. You have to trust me."

"I'll always trust you," he said, kicking himself off the island and walking over to me. My body stiffened, and I think he noticed because he stopped about a foot away. "But damnit, I feel like you're slipping away from me and I don't know what to do about it."

"That's where you have to come in. You have to want to help yourself, okay? I cannot be your savoir, I can't do everything for you. I love you so fucking much, but I can't save us."

He winced at those words, his face twisting. "So it's all my fault, then? We broke up because of me? I'm the only problem in this relationship?" He questioned in offence.