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A/N: 26.12.2020
It’s between “Ponan” and “Darker”. Which one do you prefer?
And can we just take a moment to appreciate the title of this chapter? 😂 I’m sorry but I just love it so much. Yes, yes, let me be proud if my title, thank thee.
Please don’t forget to leave a vote ❤
BTW, please don’t forget to follow me @letsgohomehidee on Instagram. I often host Q/A’s and do livestreams, and would love to chat with you guys there!
🌻🌻🌻
“Parker!” I exclaimed, running after him. He looked over his shoulder and scowled when he saw me.
“Good evening.”
“Yeah,” he replied, his voice bitter and sharp.
“How are you?” I asked, trying not to shiver from the cold.
“Great.”
I smiled. “I’m glad.”
Parker narrowed his eyes at me. I must have said something wrong.
“I sent you a few texts, but you never replied to them. Oh, but I know you didn’t have any bad intentions-“
“I did.”
I paused. “What?”
“I did have bad intentions. I saw your messages and didn’t reply to them.”
“Oh.” I squeezed my hands. I didn’t know what to say. “But… Why?”
Parker let out a bitter laugh.
“You have got to be kidding me,” he sneered. “Forget it, I have to go.”
He turned to leave, but I quickly stepped forward.
“Wait,” I blurted. “I don’t understand.”
“That’s the thing!” He shouted, making me flinch. “You never understand!”
“I’m sorry, I-“
His head hung, and he ran a frustrated hand over his face.
“That’s not what I want to hear,” he muttered. A long silence hung over us, and I waited for him to say something. He looked up with his miserable dark eyes, his dishelved hair falling over his beautiful forehead. “Let’s stop this.”
“Stop what?” I asked.
“Being friends.”
My body stiffened.
“You’re going to destroy me all over again,” he said, and then he laughed, shaking his head. “You terrify me, Conan. You’re small, you’re frail, you look like you’d fall over if the wind blew against you, but you’re absolutely terrifying.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” I said.
“But you did. You still do,” he said, looking at me with sadness drowning in his dark eyes. “And it fucking hurts so much.”
I flinched, feeling my chest tighten and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Parker seemed so normal, I sometimes forgot he had his own problems. It wasn’t easy for him to get over the death of his ex-boyfriend, and Freddie told me Parker’s addiction to alcohol started when he passed away. Parker rarely ever spoke about him, but I think his silence spoke louder than words. I didn’t know whether or not Parker still loved him, but I knew his death had scarred it, it caused him immense pain. It had left him empty and hurt.
‘You’re going to destroy me all over again.’
I felt the tension in air and the intensity in his tone. For someone who pretended to be shallow, there was a great deal of emotion behind every word he spoke. I stood there, trying to understand what I had done wrong and how I had hurt Parker. These past few days, all I’d done was try to be better. I tried my best to show him that I wasn’t broken, I made an effort to seem repaired, but all I had done was hurt him. Where did it all go wrong?
I decided to be honest. I decided to use the simplest words that hid no ambiguity or confusion.
“I don’t understand,” I told him quietly.
“Don’t you get it, Conan?” he yelled, his harsh voice making me shrink. And for a fraction of a second, Parker looked hurt. He looked so deeply hurt, as if he was going to cry, but then he replaced whatever vulnerability exposed there with a scowl.
“You’re all I think about. You’re all I can think about. I’m worrying about you 24/7, wondering how you’re doing, if you’re eating, whether you’re still fucking breathing. You think that’s normal? Do you know how dangerously unpredictable you are? I never know what’s going on in your head. Who knows when you’ll leave? And when you do, where does that leave me?” He demanded, his eyes burning with so much life and pain. “I can’t go through this again, I can’t. I am this close to losing my mind,” he rasped, pinching the air. “And I’ve just finally started getting better, and then you suddenly arrive and start messing with my head, and fuck!”
He took a step back, his jaw tightening.
“I do care about you,” I murmured.
“You don’t give a damn!” he roared. “If you cared about me, if you really fucking cared, then you wouldn’t be hurting me like this. If you cared, even just a bit, you wouldn’t be smiling so widely and laughing, you wouldn’t have joined that fucking gay play, and you wouldn’t have agreed to play the role with Ryan. I’m here drinking and smoking just to forget what it’s like to hear your voice and you’re out there having the time of your life.”
My eyes widened.
“Is it fun for you? Rubbing it in my face to show me how little I mean to you? You’re making a fool out of me. I can’t take it anymore.”
I stood there, shocked. Was that how he interpreted everything? All this time I had been trying to be better so I could prove to Parker that I wasn’t broken, but it only worsened everything. How was I going to solve this misunderstanding? What was I supposed to say at times like this? Freddie was right, books taught concepts but there were always exceptions in life, and Parker just so happened to be one of them.
You never really understood a person until you considered things from their point of view, and I realized that Parker could have easily misunderstood my intentions. We all lived in the same world but we saw the same reality differently. Society was defined by a group of people, but in a society there were individuals, and individuals implied the existence of more than one perception of the world.
I always envied those who could easily communicate their version of reality to others. They had the gift of dodging miscommunication and misunderstandings. How was I going to tell Parker that he had misinterpreted my intentions with the right words without upsetting or hurting him? Was that even possible? What if I only made things worse?
Think, Conan, think. You have a variety of words, you speak the same language, so why can’t you use them properly?
“You seem to be much happier without me,” he said, his voice falling to a whisper.
“No, Parker-“
“Go home, Conan,” he whispered. Parker was about to leave. I could feel him sleeping out of my hands like sand, and I began to panic.
Words, words words. My mind was screaming at myself to say something, but I was scared. If I made a mistake, I knew it would be over for good. I couldn’t lose part, so amidst the rise of panic, I blurted: “I like you.”
When the words slipped out, I felt the sudden urge to cry. The syllables burned my throat and left a bitter taste, and regret hit me like a train. At a young age, too young perhaps, I realized that my feelings and thoughts were the only things that were truly mine.
So why? After years of silence, after keeping everything bottled up inside for long, why was I taking the risk of letting someone hurt me? Being emotionally vulnerable was no better than choosing your own misery.
And yet I had a desperate need to be heard.
“I’ve been trying,” I choked, trying to get the words out of my chest. “I’ve been trying for you, and I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong. When I said I was homophobic, I didn’t mean I hated you. It’s just that I can’t find another word that can explain the pain I feel when I’m too close to men. And I’m sorry if this upsets you, but I’m trying to fix myself. That’s why I joined the play and agreed to play Clark. I know you won’t be my friend unless I fix myself, so I’m trying. But I need a little more time, Parker. I’ll… I’ll get better, I really will, I just…”
I was thinking so much, feeling so much, I could no longer find my words.
You can’t even speak properly, Conan, this is why Parker doesn’t want you. You’re pathetic.
“Conan,” Parker murmured, but I took a step back, shaking my head. He was going to tell me he was going to leave. He was going to leave me all alone and tell me he didn’t want me.
“Can I please have some more time? I’ll try harder,” I begged him, feeling immense pain and fear. “Parker, please, I’m sorry, it’s my fault-“
Parker reached out and pulled me tightly against his chest. As soon as I was in his arms, my panicking thoughts calmed down instantly. The world felt less cold, less cruel, less lonely.
Yet, I felt repulsed. It took everything in me not to rip myself away from him. I wish I could hug him back, but I knew my body wouldn’t allow it. So I stood there, my fists firmly glued to my sides. I knew if I moved even an inch, I’d lose my mind.
And that’s who you are, Conan.
You’re sick.
🌻🌻🌻
And there goes my heart 💔
Do you guys have any theories on Conan? I always love reading them ><
And thoughts on Parker’s reaction/feelings?
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