Chapter 12
TW - his mum is a piece of shit
“Not coming out for drinks?” Miri asks, and I shake my head. “I’m going on a date tomorrow, I’d rather not get smashed and feel like shit tomorrow.” Sure, that’s one reason. I also just can’t drink alcohol, not while I’m on celecoxib; it increases the chance of stomach bleeding or something else fairly terrifying.
I could just tell Miri this, but I haven’t mentioned the hospital visit since the first time, and I never told her the results. I haven’t told anyone about it. I just…don’t know what to say. It’s not even like it’s that serious, but at the same time…I have a fucking birth defect which makes my wrists fucking shite.
Yeah, I think I’ll keep my arthralgia to myself for now.
Griffin🦅: we still on for tomorrow?
Better check, I’d be crushed if Beck said he was now busy. Luckily, he texts back quickly, so I’m not left in suspense.
Rebecca🌸: Of course
Rebecca🌸: I can’t wait ahaha
Smiling to myself, I unlock the door to my dorm, switching the lights on. I almost have a heart attack when I see a figure standing in the entrance. I yelp, dropping my phone on the doormat, pressing a hand to my heart in exasperation.
“Mother dearest, why are you here?”
My mother glares at me, clicking her tongue. “Come with me. It’s time you practiced the piano; that party I mentioned is in three weeks so you need to sound less awful by then.” She grabs my forearm, pulling me out of the dorm.
I rip my arm from her grip, glaring at her before picking up my phone from the floor. “I can’t play the piano; doctor’s orders.”
She just rolls her eyes, scoffing. “That’s absurd - stop making up excuses for wasting your talent.”
I frown, pulling the packet of celecoxib from my messenger bag. “I’m not making it up. I was prescribed with analgesics because of my arthralgia. I was told to stop playing the piano, as well as make some other lifestyle changes.”
Mother walks forwards, snatching the drugs from my hand and inspecting them, before scoffing. “These are probably fake anyway. Stop making up excuses and just play the fucking piano.”
Frowning, I take a step back; if she swears, then she’s really not in a good mood. “Griffin, come here right now. I’m not playing your little games any longer.”
Chills run up and down my spine, her tone instilling fear in my mind, just how she wants it to. Like I said before, my mother doesn’t like it when I disobey her. She steps towards me, her high heels clacking on the floor as she snatches my arm, dragging me back towards the door.
I don’t even try and stop her. There’s no point, she’ll just get her way eventually.
She pulls me to the music department, where she takes out something from her pocket, popping out each individual tablet into the bin. “You won’t be needing those; you just need to do as I say.”
No. She’s fucking crazy.
She threw my medication in the trash. What am I supposed to do now?
—————
I lock the door behind me, sinking onto the floor. My wrists hurt the most they ever have, sending sharp pains through my arms after being forced to play the piano until the music department building closed for the night. And now, I don’t even have my medicine to help.
Pulling my arms to my body, I let out a sob, but no tears fall. I wish I could just cry, just let the pain out. But I can’t. Mother always said that men don’t cry, that men can take a little bit of pain. Well, she’s fucking crazy, and I don’t believe a word she says.
Well, no. I believe more of her words than I’d like to admit, but I know that this is just another of her ways to make me into a version of her.
Leaning my head against the door, I sit there until I eventually fall asleep. When I wake up again, my neck is killing me, but still not as painful as my wrists. I don’t even know if the hospital will re-prescribe me more, I’d literally only taken two tablets.
Pulling myself to my feet, I fall onto my bed, feeling like complete and utter shit. I fucking hate that woman.
—————
Beck waves me over, and he looks nice. Really nice. I give him my best smile, but his expression falters as soon as he sees me. He looks concerned, and instantly pulls out his phone.
Rebecca🌸: What’s wrong? Are you ok?
I grimace, waving him off, and ignoring the pain in my wrist as I do so. “I’m fine. How’re you?” I ask as we enter the café, getting in the queue for our order to be taken.
Rebecca🌸: Ok. You can always tell me if something is up though. I’m good thanks :)
“Thanks, and I’m glad you’re good. What’re you going to order?” I ask, looking over the many options.
Rebecca🌸: Caramel macchiato. You?
“Hmm, so you like sweet things?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows at him. A little blush covers his cheeks, and I smile genuinely at the sight. “Cute,” I say before I can stop myself. Beck glances up in surprise, but I just look away, pretending that didn’t just happen.
“Can I take your order?”
“Umm, can we have one caramel macchiato and one black coffee please?” I pay for our drinks before Beck even has a chance to complain, turning to him and smiling. “My treat. You can buy the drinks next time.”
He goes from looking like he wants to argue, to looking instantly pacified, and he’s blushing again. God, my poor poor heart is being shredded with the adorableness from watching this guy! We find a nice table in the window, sitting down with our drinks.
Rebecca🌸: How is your assignment going?
I glance up from my phone, “hm? I finished it last week, didn’t I tell you?” I instantly regret my words when Beck’s expression falls, and I try and work out what I said wrong.
Rebecca🌸: Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise. I thought you weren’t able to play because of your assignment. Congrats on finishing it, by the way
Oh fuck. “O-oh, um, thanks. Yeah no, I was just…busy. I might not be able to play for a while, actually,” I say more quietly, feeling depressed all of a sudden.
Video games have been my favourite thing for a long time; my escape. And now, I can’t play them. Especially when I don’t have my meds. I really have to get more.
Rebecca🌸: Oh, fair enough. I’ll miss hanging out with you haha
I smile wryly, looking up and locking eyes with Beck. “I’ll miss hanging out with you too. We’ll just have to make sure to message more instead,” I say with an awkward smirk. Beck’s expression lifts and I take a massive gulp of my drink; this guy is like an open book.
I can read every emotion just from glancing at him. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love that.
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