by Elena Monroe
Jogging up a few flights of stairs I finished the last pour of my cereal, sans spoon, wishing I could text Birdy I was going to be MIA or see if she was on shark week too, but I didn’t have her number in my phone. A burst of anger flushed up my body and I threw my phone against the wall before slamming myself on my bed.
All I wanted was to make her laugh and now I was settling for watching Titanic and The Notebook so I could cry with my paid girlfriends instead.
Fake smiles.
Paid consideration.
Birdy was the only authentic thing in my life.
I just had to choose between authenticity and consistency.
Laying down wasn’t helping and I could feel shakes and cold sweats start to take over my body. All I wanted was to chase the pain rumbling in my chest with bad choices, adrenaline, and whatever could bury it deeper.
The last time I felt this kind of anxiety that begged my limbs to keep moving and not stop until it became painful was when things were out of my control and off my payroll.
I may be chaotic a fuck, but I still like to be prepared for shit, hence the rules.
Thrashing my limbs around still on my bed, I groaned with my teeth grinding together so hard I wondered if I could break them this way. Finally standing up, I began pushing over and throwing around anything I could, destroying a room even further that already looked ransacked. I only stopped when I spotted a red spray paint can in the mess and stood on my bed again.
I was tall enough to stand on my bed and reach up to feel my fingertips touch the ceiling while I pushed down on the small top moving the spray can against the black surface. Once I was satisfied with my art, I let my legs fold and melt into my sheets as I stared up at the sparrow on a skateboard trying to fly across my ceiling.
Birdy.
The smallest kind of calm spread over me, not lasting long. My chest was too tight and my lungs felt too heavy to expand far enough to get a good breath in. My life was turned upside down and she didn’t even really like me.
Not like that.
As long as I can remember, I’ve been like this - quick to decide almost everything and normally all my decisions go up in flames.
My mom always just told me: Petit a petit, l’oiseau fait son nid which translates to little by little, the bird makes its nest. I was collecting mistakes and bad behavior the same way a bird collects shit to build their walls.
It’s what made me different from the other guys. I loved, ran, jumped, and didn’t fear the way others did. Other’s knew when to stop but my anxiety and ADHD screamed not enough.
My body was screaming for me to do something, anything, to make this feeling go away. Unbuttoning my jeans and stretching my shirt on its way off, I got down to my underwear opening the French style doors that overlooked my pool when I flung my onesie over the railing to the concrete. Stepping back into my room I took a running start, my foot hitting the chair on the balcony as I launched myself over into the pool chasing the adrenaline I needed to.
I could have missed.
I could have cracked my skull.
I could have died.
But I didn’t, I lived, and my animal did too.
Lucky me.
Kennedy was standing by the pool with her arms crossed and a stern look on her face that was normally the result of my bad decisions.
A stern fucking face and choice fucking words.
Bring them on Kens, nothing is worse than the animal inside me.
“Do you feel better? Death by baptism to help you lie to yourself?” She shrugged like I was the most unbelievable person on the planet while I climbed out of the pool.
Normally, I wouldn’t agree.
Grabbing the towel hanging off the lounger I shook off the water from imploding into the pool at a daring speed. Scooping up my onesie I climbed inside each leg trying to balance walking and putting it on while going back inside. I had a movie marathon to attend with all my PMS-ing girlfriends.
I jumped over the back of the couch landing sideways in my onesie and was still damp from the pool when I watched Veronica flick on the movie, Sweet November, a crowd favorite.
The animal was tamed, not the overwhelmed way my mind was stuck to her.
Sunday was my favorite day of the week. Unlike the other guys, I love my parents like they are my best friends (go ahead and laugh).
I slept in my mom and dad’s bed until I started popping boners and my dad took it personally when he woke up with his son’s wood pressing into him.
I’m a cuddler, sue me.
I didn’t sleep last night with my mind wrapped up in Birdy and the designer bags under my eyes made it obvious in comparison to the very well rested complexion I normally wore. Before Birdy I was a relatively stress-free life of the party and every guy’s fantasy having multiple girlfriends.
Now, I just don’t sleep because the guilt of wanting something I can’t have feeds my animal and keeps me anxious.
My sister, Rhapsody, always picked me up on Sunday’s for brunch. Helpful, considering I couldn’t even get through a day full of movies to cry to without drifting back to her. Rhap, as I call her, is let’s say, unaware of her own greatness. She hadn’t found what she loved yet and took the burden of being our family's concern instead of me.
Thank fuck for sisters.
She wasn't born a boy so she had a world of chances colliding with opportunity when it came to figure out what she wanted her life to be. Meanwhile, I’m stuck being War and there’s no escaping it.
After I pulled some ripped skinny jeans with a thrasher shirt and matching hoodie, I left the girls all piled on the couch while I took the walk up the gate at the end of the driveway. Normally I enjoyed feeling like a tool when I have to punch in my gate code just to leave my own property, now, it just feels like Birdy would disapprove.
Waiting on the sidewalk for Rhap I paced still wanting to text her without having her number. It posed a problem.
Just like the reckless I was, Rhap slammed on the breaks almost bypassing my place completely with both her hands busy with her phone and coffee. Out of us all, she was the most like me except with tits.
“Shit dude. You can’t stand in the road.”
I tried not to laugh as I climbed into her Tesla giving her my best big brother disappointment stare, “Maybe next time we drive with our eyes and hands…”
“Very funny coming from the one who won’t drive.”
None of my sisters knew why I didn’t drive and I preferred it that way. It was my parent’s idea to keep it to myself when we knew it could destroy my relationships with them. We were a close family and that kind of tragedy only rips people apart.
It would be devastating for someone like me who needs to be around people.
My parent’s house looked straight out of the French countryside complete with a fountain and wildflowers in coral that bounced off the vibrant blue shutters. It was a fucking Jane Austen novel if I ever saw one.
My father had it built to be an exact duplicate of her home in France. He didn’t want my mom to ever miss home enough to run away from him, so he gave her all the home she’d need here.
In a non-trapping way. Krosby DuPonte isn’t a cruel man in any aspect of the word. Makes me wonder if his hands ever got dirty.
It’s no surprise I have too much love for one person to give and I prefer my hands clean.
“You were quiet. What’s your problem?” Rhap asked me rounding her car, watching me literally melt off the seat in some dramatic fashion.
Shrugging, I made my way to the front door feeling like I had just got off a jet and was in fact in France now. Pushing the door open all I could hear was the piano playing, feel the sunlight pouring through the windows, and the smell of brunch making my stomach clench.
Following the piano, I found my dad in the viewing room playing Frédéric Chopin, my mom’s favorite, with her sitting beside him on the bench smiling in the way that made you smile. My mom was a hippie through and through but had a t
aste for finer music and finer men.
I could hear her ankle bracelet full of charms sound off when she stood up to greet us. Pulling me into her chest, I squeezed her back when she ran her fingers through my hair soothing my animal. I wanted to come clean and tell her everything, let her decide for me, or let her tell me it was a mistake to feel this way about someone and to just continue on the road I am.
I didn’t want any more mistakes to build my nest, it was strong enough.
As soon as our grasp dissolved, she could tell something was off when her eyes scanned my aura like a top-notch medical machine trying to find anything out of the ordinary. “What’s wrong?”
Rhap, behind me awaiting her hug, laughed and agreed with her. The two spoke in French around me hoping I would be so out of it I forgot the whole language while I slumped down onto the couch.
Let them talk about me, hell, I was probably the highlight of the gossip today.
My dad picked up my ankles before sitting down, forcing me to make room for him while I stretched out, taking up the entire couch. He never forced me to do anything, not even move, when he dropped my legs down on top of his after he got comfortable.
His voice cut through my listening, “Never a dull moment, huh? Some food in you and you’ll feel good as new. What was it this time? PCP? Molly? Little LSD?”
I didn’t keep secrets from anyone, except myself. My parents knew everything about me including the partying, drugs, the antics, and the girlfriends. They were privy to more of my lifestyle then the guys I’m supposed to lean on.
If only that felt like leaning instead of a paperweight burdening their lives.
“Something I haven’t done in a long time… love poison.”
My dad has this laugh that’s full of character and life, “Potion, son. You mean you were sipping on that potion.”
“No, I mean poison. It’s eating its way through my sanity, my rules - my everything. I only have two years until you spill the beans on who I’m marrying anyways so it's pointless.”
Twisting as much as he could towards me, he took inventory of me the same way my mom did, with a hard gaze and x-ray eyes. “We always thought you’d end up with Kens.”
Shooting up I scooted back, ripping my legs from his lap like a poor attempt at revenge over him thinking I would end up with one of my best friends.
“What?! No. No, we aren’t… like that. That’s like marrying one of my sisters. You cannot do that to me.”
He threw his hands up in a retreat from my war knocking at his door if he made me marry Kens. “Okay, killer,” with this smirk that I knew meant he was neck deep in trickery. He was forcing me to hate the idea of Kens even more all so I could fall into the trap of the poison working its way through me.
I was terminally ill and awaiting the poison to finally let me fall asleep.
My mom could sense it when she arrived back in the room with more of my sisters in tow and some disgusting looking smoothie. It screamed Bowen to me, his liquid fucking diet because he’s allergic to food, people, feelings - you know living.
Loser.
“Drink this or no brunch,” a woman after my own heart giving me an ultimatum that forced me to decide if I wanted to get my way.
Sniffing it I gagged on the scent that punched my nostrils with so much force my face couldn’t help but scrunch up. Tossing it back I took big gulps and tried to pretend it was vodka or something I like better than this shit.
My diet consisted of mostly burritos, cereal, Pop-Tarts, and Red Bull - the food pyramid was a scheme for you to buy more expensive food. They weren’t getting me with the bullshit we feed the masses.
Not this cult member… it’s hard to enjoy the joke once you work behind the curtain.
Only after every drop had been consumed, I was allowed to greet my other sisters in bear hugs. I was saving Harmony, my newly engaged sister for last on purpose, when I engulfed Destiny who was accomplished in the public relations field, Serenity who was in publishing, and Nirvana who was a tattoo apprentice still in college.
She’s used me as a human canvas a lot.
Harmony was already blushing since we all knew except our parents. I opened my mouth with a smirk when she hit my arm so hard an ‘ow’ escaped. “Don’t you dare,” she threatened me while pushing me outside to the pergola for brunch.
Running around the table, I scored my favorite seat, right in the middle. I was center stage in this seat and at an equal distance from everyone enough to not feel left out of any conversations. We were all close-knit making brunch filled with tea and gossip - in other words I wasn’t missing one tidbit.
It’s important to note I also stirred, folded, and whipped the pot.
Once we sat down, I decided it was the perfect time, “Harmony, did you show mom and dad your ring?” Digging into the stack of pancakes she kicked me from under the table.
My dad stiffened and my mom looked terrified at the word ring connected with my baby sister. Mom broke the silence first, “Sweetie… did Jameson give you a promise ring?” Her voice was hopeful while I shoved pancakes in my mouth trying not to laugh.
“He asked me to marry him and I said yes. I was waiting to tell you guys but this asshole-”
“Regarder votre langue,” she always goes in and out of French but when her voice gets tense you know you fucked up.
We both went quiet, not willing to make our mom upset. As much as we all had some chaos in us, we always avoided hurting our parents even if that meant lying, covering, or creating more problems.
“I think Khaos might be in love. He hung up on me after saying he was with someone and I heard them together in the background amongst his obvious feelings,” she spoke to the table while looking at me the entire time, eyes locked in some no blinking competition.
Her announcement hung in the air for about two seconds of shock when my father decided he would take her side and gang up on me. I was already in the hot seat and now the animal in me was waking up again for some bad behavior.
My dad spoke the loudest, “That must be the poison he was talking about. What do we know?”
The entire table shifted sides, all chattering on like I wasn’t there at all.
Omg, Khaos is in love?
Do you think it’s a girl or guy?
How long do you think he’s been hiding it?
All the chatter grated against my animal’s sharp teeth who was now awake and begging me to do something stupid again. That something stupid always came with a dramatic precursor like shooting up and looking Harmony dead in the eyes when I told her, “Go fuck yourself.”
That halted brunch with a good set of breaks.
As fast as my legs would walk, not run, I made my way inside before climbing the stairs to my old room that pretty much looked like my room now. Black walls, red neon lights, graffiti everywhere, and a disaster covering every inch. Closing the door behind me I kicked myself for not driving. That would have been an easier getaway.
Nothing about me was easy… unless you meant easy lay.
There was a soft knock at the door while I spun around in the computer chair hoping to get dizzy and somehow stumble upon hurting myself.
Half accident, half the animal, but all me baby.
“Chou?” The door creaked open slowly while I continued spinning making her a blur of sympathy. The real kind, in focus, made me feel broken and unfixable.
“I’m sorry I said it…” I kept spinning feeding her the words I knew she would want to hear. Of course I didn’t mean it. Obviously.
My mom’s broken English and accent was comforting as I stopped spinning willing to hear her out even though I knew it was a risk. “Why are you ashamed to love someone?”
She was certainly cutting to the chase with absolutely no context or back story.
“Do you have time for that list of reasons? Maybe because I have to marry some stranger in two years? Or that I’m part of some fucked up cult that made me war when I avoid violence like a goddamn plague?
Or, just maybe, because the last person I loved I pushed off a fucking roof?”
She leaned against the door with this glimmer in her eye like she was waiting for this very moment in time that I finally lost it.
“I cannot help with the cult stuff - that is neither here nor there. And as far as I’m concerned that girl got an express ticket to hell for what she did to you and now she can’t hurt anyone else. The other part is where I come in… we decided to give you the power in who you marry a long time ago. We want you to be happy, not stuck in some arrangement just because the cult decreed it so. You’ll marry whoever you love most when the time comes.”
My mind was reeling, and I couldn’t tell if it was the spinning or this new information coming to light that changed everything.
“Wait, what? What - what do you mean? Dad said Kens downstairs.”
“We always just assumed it would be her you chose since she’s been around the longest. Be open to the possibility of love again, mon chou. I believe you should follow your feelings for this girl, your aura changed beautifully just by thinking of her.”
I pulled some dramatics, slithering off the chair and onto the floor as her words rattled around in my head. Lying flat on my back I stared at my mom contemplating a response when I decided in this rare case that silence would be my friend.
This new information should have made me feel more relaxed, but it only solidified my nerves. I was going to have to make a difficult decision all on my own soon and pick a hand wouldn’t work this time.
GRACE
It had been a few days since Khaos had found me. He was stalking me and low key… I had gotten used to it.
Now being in the water, straddling my board, and only hearing the waves felt quieter than ever.
Deafening, actually.
I didn’t expect to miss the punk ass who was adamant on playing daredevil just to try to impress me, get my attention, or whatever else he wanted from me.
Last time I saw him he decided to do a handstand on his board while dropping into the bowl like an idiot.