#we h8 tags!!! they are a necessary evil lmao

[lonelyreputation]

Different (part three)

A/N: Sorry it’s a little bit later than usual!! But here’s part three ahh!! I’m so grateful for all the support you all have shown this series it really makes me 🥺 as I cry into my tea you all are THE BEST 💖✨🥂

Anyway…Enjoy part three!! Let me know your thoughts! 💞 💗 There WILL be a part four 😉

Part ONE | Part TWO | Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST

Warnings: Few swear words

WC: 3.1K

It had been six months since you successfully scrapped your life clean of your best friend.  Even with all the time that passed, it wasn’t enough for your heart not to ache whenever you heard him on the radio.  So you stopped listening to the radio.

You had taken down all of the pictures where he made an appearance on your Instagram and switched it to private; you blocked him, anyone from his team, and distanced yourself from his friends that had woven their way into your life.  You eventually deleted your twitter account after Shawn tried contacting you from the AG Artist official account.

It had been a painful process, removing your best friend and the person you loved out of your life, but it was necessary for you to reclaim your sanity.  And something else that helped you stop staining your pillows with tears at night was a daily walk in the park.

There was a park ten minutes from your apartment.  And it had become your safe haven whenever you felt the phantom pain of Shawn twisting the knife in your heart six months ago.   Early on, when your roommate noticed something was different when Shawn wasn’t over, or you weren’t at his place constantly, the park was your escape.  And it continued to serve that purpose up until now.

As usual, you were lost up in your head, trying not to replay the scenario of Shawn destroying you in every way possible, when a voice you hadn’t heard in six months call out your name.

“Y/n?”

You froze in the middle of the pathway, taking a deep breath, and holding it in.  Maybe, you thought to yourself, if you stay as still as possible and don’t turn around he won’t know it’s you.

But he called your name again, letting out a small, but awkward laugh.  You shakily released the breath that you held captive in your lungs, as you slowly turned on your heels to face the red head you hadn’t seen since you begged him to keep Shawn from coming after you.

“Brian,” You offered him a wave, still standing in your spot that was a good few feet away from him, “Hi.”

His eyes tried to shine bright, but you recognized the gloominess in them, because you stared into gloomy eyes every time you looked in the mirror.

With his hands stuffed into the pockets of his winter coat, he took a few steps forward, “It’s been––Wow, it’s been too long.  How’ve you been––” he cut himself and offered you a regretful smile, already knowing the answer to his question, “What’ve you been up to.”

“This and that,” you lamely offered him with a shrug of your shoulders.  Your friendship with Brian had suffered greatly when you cut Shawn out of your life.  He was one of his friends that you blocked from all your social media.

“Do you walk here often?”

A cold breeze made you shiver as you gave him another vague answer, “Every now and then.”

You were almost as close to Brian as you were with Shawn, and he could see right through your poor excuse of answers, “Let’s go get a coffee.”

You shook your head, “I have to––”

“I’ll only take twenty minutes of your time,” his shoulders dropped as he looked at you with pleading eyes, “I’ll even pay.”

Knowing how much Brian hated spending money, it took you aback that he was offering to pay.  Never once in your friendship with him had he paid for anything other than what he absolutely needed.

Warily, you nodded your head in response, and a smile lit up his face, “There’s a place not too far, c’mon.”

The walk to the coffee shop was absolutely silent.  Not that you minded it, but you knew that Brian was holding back whatever thoughts were whirling around in his head for the conversation at the coffee shop.

Soon enough, Brain was holding open the door for you to walk through and you were hit with an immediate warmth.  He asked you if you still had the same coffee order, you nodded your head, and he told you to go sit at a table while he ordered the drinks.

You plucked your gloves from your hands, finger by finger, but kept your jacket on.  Your leg bounced under the table and you chewed on your bottom lip.  Twenty minutes, you said to yourself, you’ll give him twenty minutes and then you’re off.

When Brian placed your coffee on the table, you jumped and hit your knee under the wood table, so lost in your head that you didn’t see him appear.  He didn’t say anything about the shake of the table that caused some of your drink to spill over.

“So…” Brain circled his hands around his coffee and tapped his fingers on the white disposable cup, “You’re really done with Shawn?”

Your eyes bulged out of your head as you placed a hand over your mouth, trying not to spurt coffee out of your mouth, at his direct conversation starter.

You patted your chest a few times to clear your throat, “Are we really going to talk about this?”

Brian looked at you with sympathetic eyes, “He really didn’t tell you anything?”

“Told me I destroyed our friendship,” you said bitterly as you took a sip of your coffee, your mind flashing back to the day where your best friend obliterated your confidence, “Asked me what he did so wrong that made me fall in love with him.”

You took a shaky deep breath in and shut your eyes tight.  You had done well in blocking out the memories of that day, but the soul-crushing feeling in your chest that made it difficult to breathe had taken up residence since that day.

“He doesn’t mean that,” Brian said softly, “Trust me––”

“You weren’t there, Brian,” you snapped at him, “He meant every single word.”

It was silent as the two of you drank your coffee.  In the past, you and Brian were always laughing, poking fun at one another, but today could not be further from how you used to interact with one of your closet friends.

After another moment of silence, Brian let out a deep sigh, and he looked at you like he knew he was going to regret the words about to come out of his mouth, “You really hurt him.”

You let out a laugh, “I really hurt him?”  You waited for him to say something else, anything, but he remained silent as he looked into his black coffee, “You have to be kidding.”

Brian shook his head, “He had to go back on tour a week after your falling out,” he rubbed rubbed his eye, “Did you see any videos of his performances?”

“Of course not,” you scoffed out, “Why would I want to see my ex-best friend who shattered my heart?”

Brian rolled his eyes at your childish remark, but didn’t say anything, “He was messing up chords, singing off key…He couldn’t even finish singing When You’re Ready.”

“Why would he have trouble finishing that song?”

Brain took a deep breath and looked like he was about to say something, but he shook his head as he backtracked, “He really didn’t say anything to you?”  You shook your head no, and he let out a deep sigh, “Was it really necessary to just drop him like that?”

“I needed time for myself to stay sane,” you placed both hands flat on the table and leaned forward, “Has someone you’ve ever loved tell you to your face that what you’re feeling for them is wrong and then they get mad at you?”

Brian stayed silent and you nodded your head.  If Biran witnessed the full blow out that dismantled your friendship, you knew you wouldn’t be having this conversation.  He would probably not even be speaking to you since he was Shawn’s friend first.

Your eyes were drawn to him tapping his fingers on the table, “But that––That doesn’t make sense,” you looked up at him to see his eyebrows scrunched together as he looked off somewhere in the distance behind you, “You guys are so––so different––”

Different; everyone kept using that word to describe your relationship with Shawn.  

Your friends didn’t even blink an eye when either you or Shawn would randomly start laughing together at something when you were across the room from each other.  Or, when walking down the street; your friends would always joke about how Shawn always held your hand, and whenever you tried to pull your hand away in embarrassment, he would squeeze tight and look down at you with a smile.  

He would bake casseroles with your grandmother.  You had a key to his childhood house in Pickering despite not growing up with him.  He picked up groceries for your parents, because the one time he was over at their house with you, he noticed they were out of cereal.  You showed up to Aaliyah’s science fair to see her win a third place ribbon.

Even after everything…Everything that clearly showed your relationship with him was different than a regular friendship, you weren’t enough for him.

You abruptly pushed back your chair, causing a loud screech on the floorboards, as you begged yourself not to cry when you felt your throat tighten up, “Thanks for the coffee,” you didn’t even bother to slip your gloves back on as you pushed the chair back under the table, rushing toward the door, “But I have to go.”

“It was nice seeing you, Y/n.” His voice was somber, mournful of the friendship lost between the two of you, “See you around?”

“Bye, Brian.”

//////

Christmas Eve was two days away, and while the 24th of December was just another day, you would usually be out helping Shawn buy Christmas presents for his family around this time.  The pang of pain you felt in your chest didn’t subside as you stressed cleaned your apartment, so you decided to transfer your energy into your other coping mechanism; a walk in the park.

The brisk winter air of Canada caused your throat to feel scratchy and dry, so you stopped at the coffee shop Brian had brought you to a week and a half ago, and ordered yourself a hot tea.  The barista was nice enough to double cup the boiling water, but it was still a bit too hot, and you cursed yourself for leaving your mittens on the countertop of your apartment.

You left the shop and crossed a few streets until you were in the familiar park.  Unlike when you first started your walks; the trees held no colorful leaves, children running around with smiles were scarce, and the sharp air nipped at your skin like the tip of a knife was vastly different from the warmth of the sun.

“Y/n?”

It was a voice you hadn’t heard in six months.  A voice that you so desperately wanted to never hear again, but at the same time, the smoothness of his calming voice was ingrained into your mind and you missed the sound of it.

With the surprise of his voice, it caused your hand to shake, and hot tea scorched your exposed skin.

“Fuck,” you swore under your breath, back still turned to him.

“Shit––Sorry,” you saw the familiar black chelsea boots––the ones he would always kick off and leave on your floor before he lounged on your couch––come around to where his toes were pointed toward you, “Here––There’s a uh––There’s a coffee shop not too far from here, I can get you napkins––”

With your head still angled downward, refusing to make eye contact with him, you shook the tingling feeling of boiling water on your skin away, the frigid air helping only just a bit to cool it down, “What are you doing here, Shawn?”

In those six months, you hadn’t uttered his name to a single soul, but it was the only name that replayed over and over again in your mind.

“What am I––I’m helping you clean up?” His voice was nonchalant, as if he hadn’t knowingly broken your heart six months ago, and it made you angry.

“What are you here,” you picked your head up from your shoes to look at him for the first time in six months.

If a stranger were to look upon him, or even if a fan were to dissect a photo of him, he would look completely normal.  But you knew him better than that, you knew him a little too well.  

His jawline had a few pimples scattered across, where he usually broke out when he was under an immense amount of stress.  While it was noticeable he hit the gym on tour, he was skinnier than the last time you saw him.  His hangnails and cuticles were picked at, with his fingernails bitten down, the curl that always hung in front of his forehead was pushed back in place, and eyes lacked their usual bright gleam.

To the world he looked like a twenty-one year old who just finished a massively successful world tour, but to you, he looked different.

He was silent as you took in his appearance, but he soon got uncomfortable under your hard stare, and coughed, “Brian––He uh––He told me––” You could see that he was trying so hard to maintain eye contact, but his eyes nervously darted around the barren park, “––He said you came and walked here every now and then.”

You silently cursed Brian.  Of course he would tell Shawn the best place to find you that wasn’t your apartment.  You were glad that he had the decency to actually grant you the space you pleaded for and not show up at your doorstep.

Not knowing what to say to him, you just stood blankly in front of him, your hand gripping your cup of tea, that should still be piping hot, but you were numb to the pain as Shawn stood in front of you.  

The blistering pain of the hot water was no match for the pain you felt looking at him.

“I…” his words trailed off as his eyes focused on a pebble he lightly kicked with the tip of his boot, but when his eyes looked into yours, all you saw was his eyes mirroring the pain you felt, “I miss you, Y/n.”

You felt your throat tighten up, but manage to squeak out a sentence, “Are you serious?”

“Please,” his voice was begging to rebuild your friendship, “Don’t be like this.”

“You…You told me,” your voice was tight, as his eyes quickly looked down at the cup your hand that was shaking out of rage, “You said that what I felt was wrong and how––how I can’t and shouldn’t feel that way about you––”

“Are we really doing this now?” He let out an aggravated sigh, eyes closed, as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re the one who came to find me,” you said matter of factly, voice laced with malice, “I said I needed space––”

“It’s been six months!” Shawn ran a hand through his curls, “Six god damn months.”  You noticed his muscles straining in his neck, trying not to yell at full capacity, “You’re telling me you want to go longer without being friends?”

You let out a soft sigh, and with a defeated voice you said, “How can we go back to being friends?”

Shawn shook his head, “Don’t––We just have to talk about what happened that day.”

That day.  The day that unequivocally changed the course of your four year friendship with him.  The day that played over in your head like a film on repeat, with you strapped in a chair, reliving the worst day of your life; it’s what your own personal hell looked like.

“We did,” your voice shook as you replayed the worst part of the film in your head; his words.

The way he held resentment in his voice as he said, “That––Can’t––You don’t love me––Not––Not like…That.”  The way he cried because he didn’t want to let you go when you were obviously hurting, “You’re my best friend.  I don’t want space from you.”

But most of all…The most selfish act of the day––that’s still too painful for your mind to drift to––was when he admitted to seeing you outside of the bathroom door, and how he was knowingly entirely confident in diminishing your self-worth, “I thought if you heard I didn’t love you, instead of me saying it to you, we could go back to being normal.”

There was not a chance you could go back to being normal after that.

“And it obviously screwed both of us over,” you sniffled as you brought the back of your hand up to wipe away a tear that had fallen from your eye, “But we talked and there’s nothing more to it.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” his cheeks were looking more red with every sentence you said, and they weren’t red because of the cold.

“Okay then,” you paused and sucked in a deep breath, “Do you love me now or do you still see me as a friend?”

“You’re my best friend––”

“Do you still see me as a friend?”  

It was the loudest silence you had ever heard and you had your answer loud and clear.

“See?” You clenched your teeth together, in hopes to keep the familiar scratchiness of your throat that always preceded your tears, at bay, “Nothing’s changed so there’s nothing to talk about.”

When you felt another tear betray you and fall down the side of your face, you knew you had to leave his presence.  You quickly spun on your heel, but before you could even make it two steps away, a hand took hold of your elbow.

“Y/n, please––”

You tugged your elbow out of his grasp, but this time when the boiling water of the tea fell on your hand, you didn’t feel it, “I told you I needed space,” you peered over your shoulder to see his eyebrows slanted, eyes glistening with tears, and lip quivering, “If you love me as a friend,” you choked the words out, “Then you’ll give that to me.”

You didn’t wait to hear his response, knowing that whatever it would be, would be determined if he either chased after you or let you walk away.

He let you walk home alone.

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