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4. Lonely In The Middle Of A Crowd

Bianca

Our house was really lovely. Every wall was painted in a shade of peach save for the kitchen, with the ceiling higher than three people stacked on top of each other. The black wooden floors didn’t have a stain on them.

I descended the stairs and stopped at the very bottom. Noises were coming from the living room.

I could feel the coldness of the floor through my socks. I reached up and played with the V-neck of my purple sweater. Each step took me closer to them. And there they were.

Michelle sat next to my father, Job, in the white loveseat. They were discussing something while pointing at a tablet.

My gaze drifted to the talk show that was playing on TV. I swallowed a ball of spit. They didn’t notice I was there until I spoke.

“Hi Mom. Hi Dad.”

They froze then slowly turned to look at me over the back of the sofa.

Michelle gave Dad a curious look. “Was it today?” She asked him.

My dad leaned back into the cushion. “Seems that way.”

They both stared at the TV mounted on the wall, not saying anything further.

That was it, the very first words we exchanged ever since I was admitted. I knew this was the best greeting I was going to receive so I left them to their own devices. Besides, I was hungry and the kitchen was only a few meters away.

Michelle isn’t my birth mother. My actual mother died some years after I was born. I didn’t remember her face, but I did remember the warm comfort of her hugs. My body remembered the safety that her presence provided.

On the other hand, things were always awkward with Michelle, for lack of a better word. I don't remember the first time I met her. It was like she just appeared out of nowhere. We were seeing her more often so I just accepted her. I wasn’t even surprised when I found out about their upcoming wedding.

Michele matched Job in every way. They were inseparable. When Michelle had a thought Job completed it, and that’s also true the other way around.

It was as if they were two halves of the same whole.

I stepped past the doorway into the kitchen, trying not to dwell on the two people behind me. My lack of paying attention ended up with me nearly bumping into my older sister. Nickoya.

“Nicky, hey-”

“Why didn’t you let anyone know that you were coming back?” She cut me off before I could finish speaking.

I tried to maintain a neutral expression. “I did. I texted you all in the group chat two weeks ago to tell you the news.”

“Oh,” was all she said. Nickoya’s sharp eyes observed my facial expression. “He gave you the apartment in the divorce, right? So why are you here?”

She shook her head and brushed against me as she left with a bag of chips. I sat down on a nearby stool at the island and lowered my head, becoming overwhelmed with the worst feeling ever.

The urge to cry.


Night came soon enough and the dinner table was far from quiet. Job cut into his baked chicken. He shook his head. “I knew that cousin of his was bad news. There was just something about his face.”

Nickoya laughed in her seat next to me. “Dad, come on! What did I tell you about judging people based on their looks? Though you were right about this one.”

“That’s because I’m smart,” Dad responded with a chuckle.

His wife reached out and tenderly wiped some gravy from the corner of his lips. “When is he going to be done building that mansion?” She asked Nickoya.

Nickoya shrugged. “After about four more months. There was an issue with one of the plumbers drinking on site but Johnny had that sorted out. I can’t wait to give you guys a tour. My friends are so excited! They think he’s finally going to propose to me when the house is done.”

They went on and on about different topics. During that time I silently played with my food, moving a corn kernel from one from one side of the plate to the other. This convo had nothing to do with me. They weren’t trying to include me in any of their discussions. I have not caught a single one of them looking in my direction.

But I should get used to it. I have to remember that I’m a disgrace now.


Later that night

Avery

It was a painful thing to watch.

The neon lights moved from one corner of the room to the next. The music was so loud that most humans couldn’t even hear their own voices.

Those on the downstairs level danced to their heart's content, enjoying the night while it’s young. Of course, the loud noise wasn't enough to stop werewolves like us from hearing each other.

Conroy gulped down his drink and slammed the glass on the table. I watched him wipe his mouth clean.

“Woah man, slow down! How many of those are you having?” Bill, our friend, chuckled. “Issues with your girlfriend?”

Conroy laughed, but it was without a hint of humor. I swirled the glass of brandy on the rocks in my hand.

“I wish that was the case,” Conroy said. He refilled his glass. “My ex-wife came back from… vacation? Rehab? Whatever.” He shook his head. “I know she’s going to try entering high society again, which means I have to see her again. Is it too much to ask for her to stay out of sight?” What the hell…”

He tilted the glass to his head and consumed his entire drink in one gulp. I frowned.

Having to see him act this way has been painful.

Conroy accepted our invitations when we asked him out to clubs and parties, but he wasn’t a big consumer of alcohol and preferred to spend his time in a calm environment with his loved ones. But ever since signing the divorce papers, he had been going out more often.

I didn’t mind it at all at first since I knew everything that he went through. In fact, I was happy. He needed a chance to let loose and he earned it.

But the more time we spent together the more I took note of changes in his behavior. He became short-tempered and hot-headed, always saying the first thing that came out of his mouth. His impulsiveness had become so detrimental that he had to reel himself in and apologize to the people he hurt before the relationship between them was broken forever.

I always ended up forgiving him because I knew that he was experiencing a lot of confusing emotions that were hard to understand. Others didn’t see it the same way.

When one of our friends left the friend group, he said something that stuck with me to this day.

“Conroy needs to get his shit together before he ends up screwing himself over. Good luck to him because I won’t be here to see it.”

Instead of losing more people that are dear to him, what if he ends up losing himself?

As Conroy gulped down another glass, I sighed.

“Look man, I need to be honest with you.” I sat up and placed my glass on the table. Conroy froze on the spot, the bottle he was about to pour from hanging in mid-air. Bill stared at me too, the confusion evident in his face.

“What?”

“You know I have your back no matter what, right? Even when you went through your phases. But this has to stop. You were getting back to your old self just a few months ago but as soon as you heard that she was out of the hospital you returned to your bad habits. It shouldn’t matter if she’s back or not, you two are divorced now. She has no access to your life and hasn’t tried to get in contact with you for months. I get that she might be responsible for your family’s accident but you refused to go to the police so what exactly are you planning to do? She ruined your past so are you going to let her ruin your future too?”

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