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This had to be the drugs.
This was just the drugs.
All those commercials that rambled off the list of 4,000 side effects while they showed people happily going about their normal lives, bowling and shit? One of them was always “May cause or increase suicidal thoughts in some people.”
Maybe he was just “some people.”
He wasn’t actually gonna…right?
Getting back to his feet, he turned the bottle upside down and polished it off, tossing it onto the ground next to him and listening to the beautiful sound it made as it shattered into a hundred pieces.
He felt that.
His mom would probably be OK. She knew what a fuck up he was already; why should this be any different? Maybe she could use it as an excuse to finally drink herself to death.
And Osi? He’d cry. A lot. But he’d get over it.
Honestly, who wouldn’t get over it?
Hayes had been nothing but an actual burden on everyone in his life for as long as he could remember. His teammates, his boyfriend, his family, Mar.
Mar.
JT.
Fuck.
He hoped JT would be alright because he knew this would destroy her.
But at least she had Ryan with her again. Maybe they could be each other’s rocks or some shit. Hell, the two of them would probably have made it if it hadn’t been for Hayes anyway. He’d driven the wedge in between their relationship in the first place. He’d probably be doing both of them a favor.
The league wouldn’t give a shit. They’d just write him off as another washed-up has-been and replace him with the next hot, young talent who was willing to sell his soul for a shot at fame.
And the fans? They’d forget he ever existed after a little bit, once they all used this as an excuse to rack up likes and comments on their social media posts as they feigned their devastation.
#gonetoosoon
Fuckin’ posers.
The only person he could see this really having an effect on was TK.
He honestly didn’t know if his teammate would get through this. Would he overdose in the throes of his grief?
If he knew where he was right now, would TK come for him, the way Hayes had come for TK at the pier?
Only one way to find out, right?
Removing his phone from his pocket, he approached the entrance to the bridge. Opening his message chain with TK, he clicked on his picture, smiling briefly at it.
It was one night when they’d gotten fucked up on the road, before the Isles had hired babysitters for them, and stumbled from their hotel to a nearby Taco Bell. He’d snapped a picture of TK with an entire chalupa hanging out of his mouth and it was a little blurry because he’d been laughing so goddamn hard he could barely hold the phone steady.
They’d had so much fun that night, playing the roles of two dumb, high kids with way too much fame and money just pretending to be normal again for a hot minute. They’d gotten kicked out of the restaurant, it’d ended up all over social media, and they’d had to issue a public apology for their dickhead behavior, but it didn’t matter. It’d been so much fun.
Maybe this was just his mind playing tricks on him; maybe this was just a rough spot and life could be fun again sometime soon.
That was possible, right?
He wasn’t gonna do this.
