Page 1 of These Wicked Hearts

ONE

Atlas

I think I’ve made a huge mistake.

I drop my duffle onto the floor, the sound echoing through my empty new apartment. I don’t bother to unpack it. I’m tired, but it’s not enough to quiet my mind. My chest still feels tight. It started back at the arena during practice, and I have no idea why. Nothing on the surface is wrong. Practice was fine, the guys are fine, but something settled behind my ribs hours ago. I can’t shake it. I don’t know what to do about it.

I know how I used to deal with it.

I drop onto the couch and close my eyes and count to fifteen, trying to clear my mind. One, two, three. I didn’t play very well today. Opening game is in two nights, and I played like shit.

Four, five, six.

Maybe I should call Grey. Wait, his ceremony’s tonight. Fuck, his ceremony. I forgot. Not like it matters much. He’s probably happy I’m not there. How could he even look at me? Seven, eight, nine, ten.

Pressure starts to squeeze my brain. I sit forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and just breathe. Not now. I squeeze my fingers through my hair. Eleven, twelve.

Claws sink into my spine. It’s a weird sensation. Sharp and uneasy.

My knee begins to bounce. Just breathe. Everything’s okay. Nothing’s wrong. Nothing’s happening. It’s just my brain. Nothing is happening.

I made a huge mistake leaving. Which makes sense. If there’s a bad decision to be made my ass will be there, first in line to make it. I squeeze my eyes shut and count again. One, two, three, four, five⁠—

My knee bounces as I finish counting and breathe.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.

I take a deep breath and lean back on the couch, the only thing I bought for my new apartment. I didn’t have much back at my old apartment in Oregon either. Most of my shit is back home in New Jersey.

The fog inside my mind begins to clear.

I look around the apartment, and everything feels so empty. I feel empty. I’m not sure why I did this. Why did I ask to move? That’s what happens when you’re a fuckup. You keep outdoing yourself. It’s the only thing I’m good at.

I look over at the tower of boxes I still haven’t unpacked. Every day after practice I tell myself I’ll get around to it. There’s not many, but it feels like too much.

I was excited at first. I had plans. I was going to get my shit together. Now my motivation is gone. I need a drink. That would help me. It would shut my brain off. It would stop the pressure in my head and let me just fucking breathe.

My fingers twitch with the thought.

No. No, that’s exactly why I need to stay right here. I need to. I can do this. I don’t need it. I don’t. I repeat that until the ache starts to fade slightly.

Alcohol is weird for me. I don’t think about it most of the time, until I do. I don’t crave the taste or the feeling of being drunk. I don’t like the loss of control.

It’s the silence it brings that I crave. It’s when I’m alone and the loneliness and boredom sink in. It wrecks me. When I feel like this, I usually find a bar, and one drink makes me feel good. Free. Normal maybe. Then one turns into five. Then, thankfully, everything goes quiet. I don’t think, I don’t obsess, and most of all, I don’t feel.

It’s like magic.

As I look around this big apartment, I feel very small. My knee begins to bounce again, my fingers drum on the tops of my thighs. I need to get out of here. I need to do something. No drinking, though. I said no drinking, but just like every day after practice, that need is starting to claw at my lungs.

Come on, you can do it. You’re a fuckup, but we can get through this. No drinking. Easy, right?

If I were back home in Oregon right now, I’d have my friends. I’d have shit to keep my mind busy. Great job, you dumb fuck. Just move away from the only people who’ve kept you steady for years.

That’s why I needed to leave, though. I’m a burden to everyone around me. I refuse to put more of my issues on Grey. He doesn’t need me. He’s probably happy he doesn’t have to babysit me anymore. I’ve always been a burden to him, and now he’s free. He’s got Felix. Grey is happy, and I’m sure they are so happy together.

I bet they laugh about how pathetic I am.

I would too.